The Daughter
by WellIDontKnow
Summary: Phoebe Grey is the daughter of the successful couple Christian and Anastasia Grey. With this title follows a pressure and lots of expectations, both from her parents and society. But Phoebe is rebellious. Remark: this is from Phoebe's POV and is thereby not erotic like the rest of the series, but about having a controlling father.
1. Prologue

_._

_You know we can get away_

_Because I'm calling your name_

_Every day I feel this pain_

_But you just turn and walk away_

_._

_I just can't keep hanging on to you and me_

_._

_I just don't know what is wrong with you and me_

_._

_Touch me and then turn away_

_And put your hands into the flame_

_Tell me if you feel this pain_

_Cause I don't want to be a ball and chain._

_._

- Hanging on by Ellie Goulding

.


	2. So late

Damn. I am _so _late. I pull the shirt over my head and step into the skirt faster than ever. How can I be so late? How is it even possible?! Damn! I don't even have time to brush my hair or put on makeup, I just rush out of my bedroom and run down the stairs, trying to put my sneakers on as fast as possible.

"Phoebe!" God, not now!

"Yes dad?"

"Get in here." I close my eyes for a second, grab my bag and check I got everything while I walk to him inside the dinning room.

"What's up, dad? I'm pretty late, so if you…"

"You haven't eaten," he says it like I just stole his wallet or something. Not his food issues, not today.

"I know, but I'm late, so…"

"You're not leaving this house until you've eaten breakfast," he states, pointing demonstrative on the untouched plate with my favorite breakfast, scrambled eggs and toast.

"I really don't have time for that!" I object. He pulls his hand through his hair, frustrated. I've inherited that from him – just like my light gray eyes and the fact that my hair is messy and curly no matter how much I brush it. But I like it. Even though I got dark brown hair like my mom, and not coppery hair like dad and Ted, it looks good.

"Phoebe, you're eating and that's it. I won't discuss it," dad is not used to being home in the morning except in the weekends. But now, because mom is in New York with work, he insists on staying home until Ted and I have gone to school – completely unnecessary, because Gail is here and everything, but some things you just can't explain to my father. My father it probably the most successful – and youngest – businessman in Seattle. Christian Grey, the master of the universe. When he says 'eat', you eat. But I am _late_.

"Dad, I really…"

"We are not having this discussion! You're eating, now!" he sits down, which as always indicate that if I'm just a bit smart, I'll stop. So I do. I rush to my plate, practically swallow the egg and decide to bring the toast, so I can eat it on the way to school.

"Where is Teddy?" dad asks while reading the paper. I sigh, trying to get my jacket on, holding the toast between my teeth.

"Eh, asleep. He has to be at school at nine," I mumble trough the bread in my mouth. Ted is a senior and has leisure classes all the time. I'm a sophomore and life is just not as easy to me.

"Damn it! Casey's going to kill me!" I hiss while rushing to the door.

"Language! And drive safe! If you don't, I'll know," dad yells at me.

"Yeah, right. Are you controlling the speed in Casey's car as well?" I yell back and run as fast as possible to the car waiting on the courtyard. She doesn't look happy.

"What the hell?!" she says as I jump into the car. She turns the engine on and drives carefully down the private road. As soon as she reaches the main road, away from my dad and Taylors sights, she speed up and pushes the speed limit as far as possible.

"Sorry, I was late, but dad made me eat before I could leave," I sigh and eat my toast.

"If you crumb, I am so killing you," she informs me, but with a smile. As soon as Casey turned sixteen, she got a license and I convinced – with my moms help – dad to let me drive with Casey while Sawyer and Luke is in New York with mom. My mom, Anastasia Grey, is an amazing woman. I don't know how she does it, but she can make dad let her get her way as easily as snapping her fingers. I wish I was able to do that.

Mom often says that dad and I are too alike to get along. Well, she's right about the "get along"-part. We're practically fighting all the time. We're both stubborn and I'm very… independent. I like to decide myself, which is almost impossible with a dad like mine. He likes to control. Me, my mom, Ted, everyone around him. I know that it's his way of protecting us, that he loves us and all that crap, but it's killing me anyway. He wants to decide everything for me and he, well, stalks me. Makes sure one of his "bodyguard" slash slaves always picks me up, drives me home, controls whether I'm in school or not, everything. He's paranoid.

After my mom told me about how some guy named Jack Hyde or something tried to harm everyone dad cared about, I understood him a bit better. He _needs _to be in control. He needs to know his loved ones are safe. When I think like _that_, I feel bad disobeying him, but then I go back to be his rebellious teenage daughter. Because even though I get him, he's suffocating me. I want to live my own life. I don't know why I think that he's going to loosen his grip on me if I defy him enough times, because he obviously won't. When I was younger, I was daddy's girl. But I've changed.

Obviously they should have stopped by Ted. He's rebellious, but not so everyone can see it. He hides the fact that he goes to parties and gets girls. Ted is… well, hot. He's funny, caring and a bit arrogant, but he always got my back. I'm going to miss him when he leaves for college next year. Especially because I know that when that happens, I'm going to be the only kid dad has at home and that will make it even more annoying to be in the house. Just thinking about it, makes me want to vomit.

"Where's you head, Grey?" Casey asks, "first you make me be late, then you refuse to keep me company. Not fair." Casey is awesome. She moved to the suburb of Seattle five years ago and went to the same middle school as me. We hated each other from the first sight. Just a glimpse of her strawberry blonde hair and huge blue eyes annoyed me. After a true fistfight – one thing we always agreed on, was that bitch fights are ridicules, so we rather want fists, that bitch slaps – we turned friends. It's surreal, but true. We won each other's respect and after a few months, we were best friends. And has been ever since. Casey is tough, cool and always knows what to say. We're like twins, if you ignore the lack of look-alike.

"Sorry. I'm just tired of being… you know, home. Whenever it's just dad and me, I can just _feel_ the tension. Can't wait 'till mom gets home again," I sigh as Casey pulls in at our regular parking spot. This school is small, intimate and private. Of course it is, or the Grey kids wouldn't even be near it. There's only one class at each step so everyone knows everyone. And the parking spots are distributed – after rank and coolness. The closer you are to the school, the more respect you got. It's like a cliché teenage movie and I hate it. Glad I get driven to school almost everyday so I don't have to wonder whether I'm cool enough to park close to the school or not. Of course it's the seniors that are closest to the school, but of all the sophomores, Casey got one of the best spots. Ridicules. We agree about that as well.

"I'm sorry about that. But she's coming home soon, right?" Casey asks.

"In a week," I answer and we both frown. A week seems like a year at the moment.

"Are we very late?" I ask as I step out of the car and we start walking towards the school. A few juniors are late as well.

"It is eight o three o'clock," she answers.

"Two minutes," I nod. She smiles and puts her arm beneath mine.

"Didn't know you were such a mathematic genius."


	3. School Daze

Tenderson Private High School is exclusive and arrogant. Fits perfectly with my dads' criteria. I'm surprised he would even let Teddy and me go to a 'normal' school and didn't just homeschooled us. I think my mom is the brain behind the choice of our school. She would never let us get homeschooled, and as mentioned, she has a way with Mr. Grey.

"So… any plan of how we _don'_t participate in PE later?" Casey asks during the killing science class.

"Nope. You?" I whisper back and try to concentrate on what Mr. Yver does at the blackboard. Impossible. I suck at science. And Mr. Yver is boring as hell. Doesn't make it easier, trust me. Casey detests PE and always does everything possible to not participate.

"I'm considering just skipping the class," she whispers and studies her nails. Casey dumped listening in scientific classes years ago - and dumped the classes as well, but it doesn't seem like she cares. But I really need a good average. Bs' are good for now, but I need to do better before senior year. The colleges I plan on applying to, only take straight A averages – besides that's what my dad expects of me. To be as smart as Teddy. He's the best student on his year. Sucks for me.

"What is it… seventh time in a row now?" I whisper and write notes as crazy. Radioactivity. Shoot me.

"Sixth. Math genius," she teases.

"Miss Nash and Miss Grey, have you anything to share with the class?" Mr. Yver interrupts our whispering conversation. Most teens would probably blush or apologize. But not us.

"My notes?" I answer innocent. Mr. Yver rolls his eyes.

"Eyes on the blackboard, people!" he orders and continues the lesson.

"If it weren't so damn boring, it would be easier," Brad Jefferson mumbles. Brad's cool. We hang out now and then because Casey dates the basketball team, taking one at the time. But she hasn't been with Brad yet. I actually don't know why. Maybe he's not tall enough or something. He's the shooting guard and must thereby not be crazily tall. Casey once told me that because she is so tall, she has to date basket players to feel "not giant".

"That's what I'm saying," I mumble back.

"Miss Grey, do I have to repeat myself?" Mr. Yver asks annoyed. I just smile, don't answer- he doesn't expect an answer, so why should I give him one? Brad puts his hand up, starring at Mr. Yver with the best stone-face I've seen a guy put in ages. It's refreshing.

"Yes, Mr. Jefferson?" Mr. Yver sighs. Brad isn't the clever kid. He's here because the law says he has to – and then the basket, of course.

"Mr. Yver, is radioactivity deathly?" he asks. I stare at my notes; we've discussed how a nuclear power plant exploded in Russia and killed several people for an hour now.

"Yes, Mr. Jefferson. That is kind of the entire subject right now," Mr. Yver sighs. He's patient, you have to give him that.

"Well, in that case I'm out of here. Cause this class is definitely killing me now," Brad stands up and head for the door. He has done it before; just walked out of class.

"That's it. Detention, Mr. Jefferson. Miss Nash, Miss Grey, you too," Mr. Yver almost yells. He's started to sweat. Disgusting.

"That's not fair! We didn't do anything!" Casey interjects. Oh shit.

"Except interrupting class? Sit your ass down, Brad, or I'll make sure you won't be able to make practice for a week. Coach's not going to like that, is he?" Mr. Yver hisses. We pushed him to the limit. Brad hesitates and take a seat, with a deep sigh. Mr. Yver continues the lesson. Fifteen minutes later, Casey and I hang at our lockers before next period.

"I can't believe he gave us detention!" Casey frowns, practically throwing her books inside the locker.

"Easy for you to say. Your dad isn't killing you as soon as you get home," I sigh. I can see that she's feeling bad for me.

"It isn't the first time you get detention and you're still breathing," she points. I can't help laughing.

"Well, he gets pissed anyway. I don't know what he wants. A Grey version of Wendy Clark, maybe," we both look at Wendy Clark down the hall, who is so smart that even the teachers sometimes loses track when she gets started. Wendy is cool. She's every dads dream daughter. But I'm just not like her.

"So… PE. Are you splitting?" I ask as I get my PE clothes. Casey sighs.

"Nah… can't leave you alone to Xenos' torture, can I?" she gives me that vague smile and I know that she's doing this for me.

"Thanks, Cas," I smile, correcting my messy, curly hair and closes my locker.

"Well, do I have a choice?"

Walking to detention with Casey and Brad, I feel sweaty and gross and my hair is all… un-volumed. I hate PE. Xenos is an idiot and loves to make us run until he's sure that all our makeup is sweated off – Casey thinks he's gay because he detests makeup and styled hair so much; she thinks he's jealous. I just think he's evil. Mrs. Clark – Wendy's mother and my English teacher – is head of the detention today.

"Okay, guys. Take a seat and start reflecting about what you've done. There's a reason you're here. And please, try to avoid it next time, no matter what you've done. My job is easier if I can actually go home when school's over," Mrs. Clark says and sits at the teachers' desk. I stare into the air, trying not to wonder how pissed on a scale from one to ten, my dad is going to be when I get home. All I can see in front of my inner eye is his light gray eyes, burning like a thunderstorm. Shit.

"48 minutes to go," Brad whispers as twelve minutes of the detention has passed. I frown. This is going to be a long hour.

Taylor picks me up when I get out of detention. I know what it means; dad is home. And he's too pissed to let Casey drive me home.

"Taylor, I…" I begin, and then stop. What? 'I' what?

"Don't worry, Miss. He just needs to get it out. You know him." Frankly, that is exactly what I need to hear.

"Thanks Taylor." He just nods. I have a feeling that Taylor was the kind of guy who got detention a lot when he was in school.

In the foyer Ted is greeting me, rolling his eyes. Jezz, does the guy ever go to school?

"You're an idiot."

"Shut up."

"Have you never had Mr. Yver before? You knew it would happen."

"You've heard?"

"It was all over the school before lunch. Brad must have thrown quite a scene," Ted laughs. I can't help smiling.

"Yeah. It was kind of worth it. Even though dad is… angry" I feel terrible in a second.

"You really need to stop doing everything you can to piss him of. Especially when mom is not home. You know he gets easily annoyed when she's away." I must turn paler, because Teddy lighten up and puts his arms around me.

"Don't worry, honey. He just needs to get it out, then it's over." I nod. We both know our father.

"Phoebe Grace Grey, get your ass in here!" dad yells from his office down the hall. I send Ted a painful look.

"Get it over with," he says, quietly, "just go with the daddy's girl."

"But I'm not daddy's girl," I hiss back.

"I said _go with it_," he points. I sigh.

"Phoebe!"

"God. Coming!" I yell, give Ted a final look and then walk down the hall to fathers' office. Damn. He is _so _pissed.


	4. Getting out alive

I hurry into the office and hesitate in the door. Dad's sitting behind his huge desk, waiting for me. I walk inside slowly, trying to look like I breathe normally, trying not to look into his gray, burning eyes, so alike mine. He is _pissed_.

"I found myself… confused earlier today. When the principal called me at the office, I couldn't believe what he was saying. I was just about to say; no, that can't be my daughter. She would never offend a teacher. But as it turned out, it _was _my daughter. Peculiar, don't you think?" he says, staring me right into the eyes. The day Casey told my that she thought my dad is hot, I almost spat the water in my mouth out, just like in bad teenage movies. But she's right, he is. Hot in the… scary way. Coppery, messy hair, light grey eyes, perfect skin, bushy eyebrows. Skinny and tall. He worries me. I wish he would just yell instead of that disappointed tone. Dad's not mad, dad's disappointed. God.

"I didn't offend him," I answer slowly. It looks like a lightning just stroke in his eyes.

"I can't believe that is your excuse!"

"We just talked a little during class, nothing major. It's all on Brad Jefferson; he was the one to pull that ridiculous stunt. Casey and I didn't do anything," I can feel how the angriness starts to sneak into my system. Not good.

"Last time I checked you don't get detention for doing nothing! I will not tolerate this, Phoebe. You need to behave properly!" He stands and is thereby way taller than me. I think it makes him feel powerful.

"How many times do I have to say it? I didn't do anything! Do you want to see my notes from the class? I made an effort to keep up, it's not my fault that Brad was such an idiot!" I yell, maybe hoping to upset him enough to do the same. Quiet Christian Grey is terrifying. The yelling one I can handle.

"Do not use that tone, young lady! You brought yourself in this situation!"

"Fine. You don't believe me. I should have known, now that you never listen to me!" His eyes are burning and I know that they are a reflection of my own.

"Why are you always so difficult? Why can't you be more like…" he practically eats the words before they leave his mouth. It's a terrible cliché, but I know that's how they feel.

"More like Teddy? I don't know, dad. Maybe I just got all the bad genes; maybe you really should have stopped by one. He's the one that turned out good, right?!" I scream, turn around and run towards my room. Dad has never said it out loud, but it's always been in the air: he would rather want me to be like Teddy, the good kid. I got all dads' bad sides and all moms' bad sides. I'm the black sheep. I will always be the failure of the Greys.

"Phoebe!" dad yells behind me, but I ignore him. I run upstairs, down the hall, past the confused Ted – who has only seen me cry a limited amount of times – and into my room, where I slam the door and lock it. I hate him. I hate him for saying the words, we all new was there, out loud.

Letting the tears fall freely, I sit on my huge double bed and stare out the window. Mom told me once that it was the view that convinced them to buy the house. I love my room. It's big, light and… _me_. Even though my dad hates it – he calls it unsophisticated and hippie-ish – I've painted the walls. All walls in the house are white, but in my room it's more like a dusty blue. On the walls I have pictures of my friends and family. A laughing Casey stares at me from one of the pictures. I should call her. I promised I would call when my rundown with dad was over, but I'm drained. I can't even find the strength to call mom. Instead I write a text and throw my phone on the pillow.

#I'm okay. Just tired. See you tomorrow#

No I don't even have the strength to write smileys. It knocks on my door for around the third time.

"Pheebs, please open," Teddy says on the other side of the door. I don't blame him. He can't help that he's perfect. He can't help that he's everything dad ever wanted from a kid.

"Please Ted," I finally answer – the other times he's knocked, I just ignored him – "please, I just need to be alone a little while."

"We both know that's not true. You're hiding, baby sis," he says. He's right. But hell, so what? I stay quiet, hoping he'll leave at some point. Then, to my surprise another key pushes out the key in the door out, so it lands on the floor with a loud sound. The door opens and there is my big brother. That guy never quits.

"Are you retarded?" I hiss with a sigh. He just smiles, closes the door and locks it behind him. I stare out the window, refusing to look at him.

"Pheebs, come on. Talk to me," he sighs, taking my hand. I try hard to keep in the tears, I really do.

"It's nothing," I states, still not looking at him. Ted, the perfect kid. Funny enough he doesn't even annoy me. I love Ted with all my heart. But it annoys me that I'm not like him. It annoys me to be a disappointment. It doesn't just annoy me, it hurts me. And it hurts me, that I'm not the only one seeing that Ted is better than me in all kind of ways.

"You wouldn't be crying if it was nothing," he points wrapping his arm around me. I rest my head on his shoulder.

"Okay… dad kind of asked me why I can't be more like… you," I push out the words. Ted freezes.

"No," he whispers. I shrug my shoulders and stay quiet. The entire universe stays quiet. The only sound is Teddy breathing.

"He can't fucking say that!" Ted then exclaims angrily. I sigh.

"Take it easy, bro," I mumble. But I can feel the tension spreading to his body.

"No! It's not fair, we're individuals! We're siblings, but that doesn't mean we are the same! We are different, we have different qualities…"

"Whoa, dude. I know, I know. And I know he didn't mean it that way. It just hurt," I sigh. He pulls me in, holding me close.

"I'm so sorry, Pheebs. I'm really sorry," he whispers. I nod.

"I know. I know, Teddy," I mumble. When dad shows up in the door, using the same method as Ted did, we still sit like that, holding each other.

"Phoebe… can we talk?"

**Authors Note: I added an Epilogue in the beginning. Nothing big, but that's the reason something changed. Hope you enjoy this new chapter. Please review! x**

**- Em**


	5. The for now harmony

Ted stares at dad like he seriously considers hitting him or something.

"Ted…" I mumble. His entire body is filled with tension. Not good.

"Theodore," dad pronounces his name with carefulness.

"You can't…" Ted begins, getting a hold on himself, "you can't _fucking _say things like that. You can't!"

"Ted!" I warn, giving his hand a squeeze. Dad looks so… sad. I can't take it. He looks like a kid who knows he has done something really stupid. He looks like he's filled with regret.

"Theodore, will you please give us a moment?" dad almost whispers. Ted hesitates.

"It's okay, Teddy," I mumble. He sighs, kisses my cheek and leaves, giving dad a warning look. I stare out the window and have no idea what to say.

"Phoebe…" dad starts, staying in the door. The five years old kid inside me begs him to hold me and tell me that he loves me. I, the teenager, just stay passive. I'm not five anymore. Even though dad probably still think so.

"Pheebs, I am _so _sorry," dad says. I can't look at him.

"Please say something," he continues.

"What do you want me to say?" I ask apathetic. The five year old cries. _Daddy, please hold me!_

"I didn't mean it the way it came out. I don't want you to be like Teddy, I just want you to… I don't know…" he struggles to find the words. Very unfamiliar.

"Well, who the hell knows then?" I say, still without emotions. Usually dad would fling at me for coursing, but at the moment he knows he's the ass.

"I love you for who you are," he says. _Daddy, please hold me!_

"You could have fooled me," I whisper even though that's not true. I don't even register him grabbing my arm, pulling me to a standing position.

"Do _not _say that!" he hisses, "don't you dare say that. I love you, Phoebe Grey. Don't you dare doubt that!" I think he sees the tears in my eyes. He practically lifts me and holds me close. The five year old inside me sobs and enjoys her daddy's arms around her. I pull myself out of his embracement.

"I'm not Teddy," I say slowly. Dad looks frustrated. He can't make everything right just by holding me anymore.

"I know th…"

"Let me speak!" I interrupt. He looks overwhelmed. "I'm not naturally smart. But I do everything I can to keep up in school. I have to _fight _for every single _fucking _B I get. But because it's not an A, you are disappointed. I like to party. I like to stay out late with people you don't like. I course, I wear the wrong clothes, I do everything to have extra volume in my hear, even though I know you whish I would just straighten it. Everything I do disappoints you. But I don't do it to disappoint you; I do it because it's who I am. If you can't accept that, then I don't know how we are supposed to function together," it's been a long time since I talked so civilized, but it looks like it's making an impression on dad.

"Pheebs…" he says slowly, "I'm not disappointed in you. But yes, I expect the best of you, because I _know _that you can do it. You might think, that I want you to be in a specific way. I don't. I want you, to be you, but I can't just watch you get into trouble and wasting you life on people that pulls out the worst in you."

"The worst in me?" I whisper.

"Come on! Fistfights? Parties where everything you do is drinking alcohol and do drugs? Don't you think, I know what's going on in you life?"

"Of course you do. You're a first class stalker. For your information I don't do drugs. And it's been months since I throw a punch. The guy just couldn't keep his hands away…"

"And I am glad, that you can defend yourself! But if you didn't sneak of to those parties, you wouldn't have to," he interjects.

"You can't protect me from everything!" I hiss.

"Watch me," he says all calmly. I can barely breathe. He suffocates me.

"You have to let go, dad."

"Until I am sure, that you don't just throw your life away, I wont. So when I do, is up to you." Suddenly I can see it all.

"You wont. You wont _ever _let go. Hell, when I'm forty, you will try to control my life!" I say, still not yelling. This conversation is surprisingly civilized.

"All I do, I do because I think it's the best for you," he says.

"But you wont accept that I am who I am."

"Have you any idea how many drug addicts, prostitutes, failures that uses that excuse?! _It's who I am_. Well, it's not. If you just got yourself together, and did something about it before it got to this, it wouldn't be you. I am not letting you end up like that! You deserve better, Pheebs."

"So just because I party once in a while and aren't a super genius, I'll end up as a failure?" I hiss.

"You hear, what you want to hear, Phoebe. That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying, that you have to get your life together, whether you want to and not. You can hate me for pressuring you to move in the right direction, but I'm doing it for you."

"Who are you to know what's the right direction?! You've always been perfect…"

"Don't go there…"

"You've always been the Teddy of your family…"

"Phoebe…"

"You have no idea, who I am…"

"_I've been there_!" he yells. I stop talking immediately. Dad takes a few calming breathe.

"I've been where you are, Pheebs. Don't think I'm perfect. Someone had to push me in the right direction as well. Or I wouldn't be here today. I was _violent_. You understand that? I almost made a guy invalid. I needed someone to pressure me into becoming the person I _could _be." I stay silent. He grabs my upper arm and makes me sit on the bedside. He sits next to me, choosing his words carefully.

"When Teddy was first born, I was terrified, that he would turn out like I did. A closed, scared kid who had no idea, who he was, and what he would do with his life. But as it turned out, Ted was exactly like your mother. Pretty much filled with goodness and understanding. I don't say that you aren't, because you are. Just not in the same way. When we got a baby girl I wasn't worried at all. You were a real princess, when you were younger. You're still my princess. But as you got older, I started to see more and more of myself in you. And it worries me. I guess that's why I am so… protective of you. I would never forgive myself, if I let you turn out like I did. I can't bare it. You are filled with so many amazing qualities, Phoebe. But it's like you just forget them and focus on the bad ones the upset me and your mom as much as possible. I get that you are having an rebellious period, but it's… it scares the hell out of me, Pheebs. You _can't _end up like me. I won't let you," his voice is so powerful, so filled with authority. I don't know what to say. I stay silent for a couple of moments.

"Why… why didn't you tell me that before?" I whisper. Dad was… a bully? A rebellion? Like me? Huh. Who knew.

"Since you were a little girl, you thought the best of me. I know you don't anymore, but I couldn't ruin that image…"

"You realize that it would make it easier for me, if I didn't spend years thinking I was a failure, the black sheep of the Greys?"

"The black sheep? Why would you ever… Phoebe, life isn't easy. Trust me, you will meet so much pain and disappointment. All I do is extend your childhood a little. The kids in the streets of Seattle, don't you think they would do anything to have that opportunity? To have your opportunities? You have an amazing brother, and parents that loves you and will do anything for you," he sighs. I immediately feel bad. I don't appreciate it enough. Oh damn, that's what the man does to me.

"I still wish you would have told me before," I whisper.

"It's not an excuse for acting out, Pheebs. I still expect you to be the best you can be. Because I believe in you." _I believe in you, I believe in you. _There are so many expectations behind those four tiny words. In my heart I know that I will never be able to live up to them.

"Think about what I've said…" dad says slowly. I am just about to interject, "then _I _will think about what _you_'ve said. As equals. I know you don't consider yourself as a child anymore, Miss Grey. But you are still my babygirl." There's that little, amused glimpse in his eyes. There you go, a famous Christian Grey mood swing.

"Okay?" he wants me to accept.

"Okay," I nod. He nods as well, and run his hand through his hair at except same time as me.

"Now get ready for dinner, baby. It's almost ready," he says, as he kisses my forehead and leaves the room. The "for now harmony" has been achieved. _I believe in you._

**Authors Note: It's really hard to concentrate when one of my favorite movies run on the television. Finding Neverland is an all time genius, amazing movie. If you therefore find any mistakes, please correct me. I try to make the story as correct and… well, good. So please help me achieve that. And please review!**

**- Em**


	6. Sneaking around

Dinner without mom is the strangest thing ever. This is also the time on the day, dads unspoken wish, that mom would quit her job, is the most clear. He can't think, when she's gone. That's at least what he says. Gail has made dinner – tonight it's my favorite. She must have heard part of the argument. She has made watermelon salad, chicken and this really delicious bread – which I tend to think is her specialty. I will never have that discussion with Teddy again – he prefers her steak. At the dinner table Ted checks mails on his Blackberry. Mom always jokes about, how he always has been in love with those things. He used to chew on dads' when he was little.

"Ted, no phone at the table," dad snaps and sits down at his chair. I roll my eyes, he's no better him self, but I don't comment anything. It's just so dad.

"So," Ted says after putting his phone away, "are the two of you good, or do I still have to wear a helmet around you?" I can't help but laugh. Turns out dad talked to Ted as well, because it doesn't seem like Ted want to punch dad anymore.

"Funny, Ted," dad rolls his eyes, but smiles. Gail brings dad a glass of wine – he's a wine-fanatic.

"Can I have a glass?" Ted asks with a glimpse in his eyes.

"Yeah, forget it," dad just says.

"I'm eighteen," Ted points.

"And thereby three years from being 21. No alcohol, Theodore," dad has a no alcohol tolerance. Good thing he doesn't know what Teddy and I do in the weekends…

"Okay, fine. I was just joking, you know," Ted says, giving me that look. That siblings look that all siblings got. It says "God, our parents are idiots sometimes". All siblings got it. All.

Suddenly my phone starts vibrating in my pocket. _Here we go back, this is the moment. Tonight is the night, we'll fight till it's over. So we put our hands up like the ceiling can't hold us,_

_like the ceiling can't hold us. Here we go back, this is the mo…_

The phone stops ringing and dad just ignore it, demonstrative. I sigh. Sometimes he's just too much.

"So…," dad begins with a little smile, "you know I love music and respect your style and so on…" yeah right. He obviously forgot the "My daughter can't be street, it's not right"-discussion, "but what the hell was that?"

"Macklemore. He's awesome," I answer, really wanting to check who called. Dad lifts an eyebrow.

"Macklemore? It sounds familiar…"

"Yeah. It's because you allowed Ted and I to go to his concert last month," I answer, rolling my eyes.

"Right. The one in Seattle?" he says, looking at his lap – I'll eat grandpas old hat on that he's staring on his blackberry.

"No, the one in New York," I mumble sarcasticly. I've been to New York once and it was hell. Dad was completely paranoid all the time and mom is handicapped when it comes to shopping.

"Mmm," dad answers, obviously not listening. Ted laughs discrete. Finally dad decides to enter the conversation again.

"So… any plans for tonight?" he asks.

"Yeah. I'm going to met up with Matt," Teddy answers.

"I'm gonna study science with Casey," I answer, intentionally pulling "going to" together, just to annoy dad. He – and mom – insists on "proper English". This time he just frowns, but doesn't correct me.

"Science, huh? That didn't end well the last time, as far as I remember," dad says and I'm unsure if he's joking. He refers to later today.

"Funny," I mumble.

"Okay. Taylor will drive you," he says. Gail starts to remove our plates. Ted sighs and I know what's next.

"You know, dad… if I had a license, it would be a lot easier. Taylor wouldn't have to drive us around and I could take Pheebs and…"

"Theodore, can we talk about it later?" dad interrupts, obviously not hearing what Ted's saying and put his blackberry to his ear.

"Grey here. Yes? Damn it, Robin! No, we can't do that. It has to be done tomorrow. Then fix it! Okay… yeah, I got the numbers. Just a second," he looks at us, "ten o'clock." Then he leaves the table, discussing with Robin. I chech my phone: Casey has called.

"I can't believe I have to be back at the same time as you," Ted sighs as we put on our coats. My coat is a short leather coat - .

"I can't believe we have to be back at ten," I say, puffing my hair and smile at my reflection in the mirror in the hall.

"You got your stuff?" Ted asks with a knowing look. I show him the sports bag I found in the closet in the hall,

"Yeah…"

"Okay, then let's go," Ted puts his arm around my shoulder and we walk out in the cold Washington evening. Taylor is waiting in the car, ready to drive us. Ted frowns as he gets in, in the back of the car.

"Jesus, Ted. Why don't you just ask him directly for that license instead of that mysterious bull you pull almost every time someone drives us?" I sigh and get in the car.

"Because he'll say no? You weren't there when he taught me to ride a bike. He was almost burning the fucking bicycle, I swear," Ted frowns.

"You won't achieve anything if you don't ask."

"Oh, like you? Thanks for the advice, sissy, but I like to not fight with dad," he bites.

"Whoa, offensive there," I mumble. He sighs.

"Sorry Pheebs. It just annoys me. I hate feeling like a child," he stares out the window.

"Okay, here's a plan; you make him think it's something you can do together. He can teach you to drive and you'll have some… eh, man-time together," I suggest. He looks at me for a little while.

"That sounds like an okay plan."

"Come on, it sounds like an amazing plan! It was me who came up with it, remember?" I tease and laugh.

"Okay, then. Hey, I was wondering… that girl from your class, Jessica, do you think…"

"Negative," I interrupt ruthless, "not going to happen."

"I hate you, you know?"

"Watch your mouth, dad might have a speaker in the car. If he finds out you said that, he's going to kill you," I state, all serious. We take a look around the cabin. All that's here is Taylor and after all these years, he would never betray us to our dad.

"The scary thing is, that he just might," Ted says and we burst into laughter. It's just so surreal. But then again, it's our reality.

Taylor pulls over at Casey's first. Ted gives me that warning look.

"Why don't you tell him?" he asks, sighing like he's giving up on me.

"Because he won't understand," I answer as all the other times he has taking up the subject.

"He get the…"

"No, Ted," I interrupt, annoyed.

"Fine. When's the next…" he doesn't finish the sentence. I give Taylors back a look.

"Two weeks."

"I'll be there," he promises. I can't help smiling.

"Of course. When was the last time you missed it?"

"Two years ago? I was watching super bowl…"

"Right. See you, Teddy."

"See you sis."

"Bye Taylor," I call as I close the door and head towards Casey's house. As soon as Taylor is of the private road, Casey comes out, also carrying a sports bag.

"Good you're here. Almost thought you'd bail on me after that _see you tomorrow _text," she says as she hugs me. Ah, that's why she called.

"Right. I completely forgot. But you know, I wouldn't miss it," I say. We get in her car.

"I know. You're more obsessed about that shit, than I am."

"Oh well… it's all I got," I laugh.

"What did you tell your dad?

"That we're studying science…?"

"Right. Because I would study science voluntary," she jokes and turns the engine on.

"You ready?" she asks. Her blonde hair is tamed in a ponytail and she's wearing her beloved army coat.

"Yeah. Let's go."

**Authors Note: So, I've changed the cover picture, because this is more... well, _saying._ It reveals something about the story. Please review if you like it. I got three different pictures, I would love to be the cover, but this was the one that made the cut. If you don't like it, please tell me so I can try one of the other covers I've made. **

**Please review. All comments are appreciated. Please correct me if I've made any mistakes.**

**- Em**


	7. Just Dance

I've danced since I was five. At a benefit dinner, mom brought me to, some of the entertainment was ballet. I was completely chained by their bodies, moving in ways that seemed impossible. It was dazzling. Afterwards we went home, where dad and Ted was having a guys night – the benefit was some book thing and mom prefers not being referred to as Mrs. Christian Grey when it comes to her carrier. I ran to dad and told him about these beautiful ballerinas and how amazing they were. Then I begged him to let me have lessons. Few weeks later I started dancing on Mademoiselle Ferandés' team – Baby Grey got everything she wanted. I practiced classical ballet three times a week for six years. Then it started to become too much – all my life was planned around it and I couldn't stand it. The ballet lessons started to be a pain in the ass rather than a joy. So we found a team that didn't practice more than once a week, because after all I wasn't ready to drop ballet just yet. Now I dance every Saturday for three hours. Dad is very proud. But that's only because he doesn't know all the other things.

I don't just do ballet. Dad would kill me if he knew, but every Monday and Wednesday night I practice modern dance with Casey and every Friday after school I do street dance for a couple of hours. I love it. It's not like ballet where you have these tight routines and if you screw them up, you're doomed. In street it's about feeling the music, follow these automatic, instinctive moves your body's feeling. To become a part of the music. I love all kind of dances, but I know ballet is the only style dad will approve of. Mom might follow the modern dance part, but street… no chance. They are both very… judging. Especially when I'm the subject.

Modern dance might be a bit exaggerated. More specific I do contemporary dance, which is a mixture of modern dance, jazz and classical ballet. Contemporary dance is probably the dance I enjoy the most. It mixes all these styles I love and I'm good at it. The problem about contemporary dance is that it can be a lot more… erotic, than ballet. In ballet, if you do a duet, the steps are under these tight restrictions. There are rules about how close you can get and it is not sexy at all. But in a contemporary duet it's not just about becoming one with your body like in ballet or become one with the music like street: it's about becoming one with each other. If dad saw exactly how close I get with Kyle in some of our duets he would probably forget all about his hate towards guns and go shoot my beloved dance partner.

Kyle is amazing. He's my best friend, ever since I walked in the door in Janices apartment three year ago, looking for a place to practice modern dancing, we connected. The chemistry between us when we dance is… well, incredible. That's why we always get a duet in the shows. Janice is 25 years old and gives contemporary dance lessons in a small apartment in the heart of Seattle. After a single lesson I was so hooked on her choreography and convinced Casey to start as well. We haven't regretted.

Janice is beautiful. She's tiny and half Asian, but with a white dad, some of the Asian looks have avoided her. For example her brown eyes are wide open. Actually her eyes might be the biggest I've ever seen. Or maybe they just seem enormous because your instincts tells you that they are supposed be all closed and small. Casey parks the car at the sidewalk and we enter the cold Seattle air. I shiver. If dad knew I went to Seattle _without a jacket _tonight, he would probably lock me in or something.

.

In the apartment the music is already high and people are dancing around. We are eleven people on Janices team, which just makes it so much easier. We could never fit an entire team inside this apartment. Kyle is rocking it on the dance floor, doing some kind of break-dance. Kyle is… well, street. He always wears caps to hide his light curls – which makes him look like an innocent Swedish kid – and he has this thing for those tight undershirts. Today he wears a black one and jeans. Guys doing contemporary dance often just dance in their ordinary clothes. They are not the ones who are thrown around. Janice sees us and walks to us.

"Hey girls," she smiles, not taking her proud eyes of the guys on the floor. It's her work. We all know that.

"Hey Jay."

"You're here at the benefit, right?" The benefit is what I told Ted about. Every second moth, we do a benefit-dance in a hall Janices cousin owns.

"Of course!" we both say.

"You've set a date?" I ask.

"Saturday, two weeks," she answers, as she enters the floor, "get dressed, you two." My phone beeps.

_What are you doing in Seattle? – Dad._

I frown. He's tracking my phone right now? Seriously?

_Casey and I met up with some friends in here. Don't worry, we are not outside and I'll be home at ten._

"Where's your head, Grey?" Casey asks as we go to the dressing room – fancy words for a toilet.

"A week away. I can't wait 'till this hell's over." I desperately miss my mom.

.

"Okay, guys!" Janice yells as we finish warming up. The room we're dancing in is big with mirrors on the end wall so we can see how we look when we dance.

"As you know, the benefit is in a couple of weeks. I've decided which dances has made the cut," Janice gets a piece of paper. Every time we do a benefit, she decides which routines we've done the last two months that should be shown in the show. I wear my dancing clothes, black tights and a loose white dance T-shirt. Dance T-shirt includes that it shows my shoulders and my belly…

"Here comes the sun, The Beatles, girls routine," she starts rattle off, "Turn my swag on, Soldier Boys, guys routine. Wings, Macklemore, everyone. Drumming song, Florence and the Machine, Casey, Farah and Hailey. Pretty Wings, Maxwell, Pheebs and Kyle. Just the way you are, Bruno Mars, Joey, Baby and Willow. I got rhythm, Q-tip, Derek, Tom, Josh and Kyle. With an appearance from Casey and Phoebe," Janice can't help smiling. "I got rhythm" is more a joke dance if anything, but it's fun. We always end the show with that kind of dance.

"Let's try out Pretty Wings, you guys," Janice decides. I smile at Kyle. We did the Pretty Wings choreography all by our self and Jay really surprised us by including it in the show. The other guys leaves the floor and Kyle and I get in position. I love this dance. It's so light, so sweet. The story line is a couple on a date. Simple as that.

"You ready?" Kyle asks. I nod.

"Thought you knew me."

"Touché," he laughs as the music starts. From the first tone, we're close, standing so close, that I can hear his breath. I feel connected to him when we dance. Like we're in this little bubble, our own world. I think that's what makes us so good. When I dance in the group or with the girls, I'm average. With Kyle I keep getting better and do things I didn't even knew I could. Suddenly I can do all these jumps and lifts and turns I didn't even knew existed. When we've done the entire routine without a single mistake it's the guys turn. I go to the wall and sit next to Casey. She looks at me with that knowing look, she always gives me, when I've just danced with Kyle.

"Argh, would you please just drop it?" I sigh annoyed as "Turn my swag on" by Soldier Boy fills the room.

"Not until you admit it," she just states. Casey is positive that Kyle and I have crush on each other. I think he hot, yes. We have chemistry, yes. But that doesn't mean we _have _to be a couple. Honestly, I think the tension between us is what makes such a good dance-couple. And being an ordinary couple would completely ruin that tension.

.

I meet up with Teddy at Matts'. Matt is a senior like Ted and madly in love with me. It's almost disgusting, especially because he's that arrogant type nobody – but Ted – likes, and everybody adores. He thinks, he's Gods gift to humanity. I don't understand what Ted sees in that moron. Matt lives in an apartment in Seattle, so it's easy to get to his place after practice. He drives us home in his Audi while playing gangster hip-hop so loud, my brain's almost blown out. Complete moron.

"So, Pheebs… you'll be there at McKenzie's party in a couple of weeks?" Matt asks as we leave the car.

"Maybe," I answer. McKenzie somehow always have parties. Her parents must love her very much… or something.

"Then I'll see you there," he stares at me with that _look._ God.

"I hope not," I say. I've never been the gentle type. If you dislike someone, why try to hide it? I close the door and he drives out of the parking lot, still playing that horrible gangster rap.

"We'll see each other tomorrow in school, genius," I mumble, rolling my eyes. Ted just laughs. We enter the house as the clock strikes ten.

"Our life suck," Ted says as he stares at the clock in the foyer, and I know what he's thinking: I'm eighteen, it's ten o'clock and my dad forces me to be home by now.

"Yep."

.

Pretty Wings dance as I imagined it: watch?v=IVinZ78VMao

.

**Authors Note: So, I hope not you find the whole dancing part too uninteresting. I'll assure you that it's not a main subject in the story. It's just the background for some decision-making later in the story. Hope you still enjoy. Every review is very much appreciated. **

**- Em .x**


	8. Mommy's home

"Pheebs! Get up!" Ted yells at the other side of my door. Orh, come on! I look at my bed watch. It's 7 AM. Fucking 7 AM.

"Beat it!" I yell back, throwing my head to the pillow.

"It's Saturday! Mom's getting home today! Dad's already left for the airport, you need to get up before they get back."

"Mom will understand," I mumble, not sure if he can hear it. My door practically flies up and my beloved – sometimes more than other – brother comes inside, pulling my quilt away.

"Get out, asshole!" I yell, feeling the cold morning air flowing over me.

"If you say so," he says, leaving the room. With my quilt. Damn.

"God," I hiss, get up and put on some clothes.

Down stairs Gail has made breakfast – my moms' favorite. Lots of fruit, scrambled eggs and fresh juice. Ted is having a cup of coffee, as he reads mails.

"Where's my quilt?" I ask annoyed, as I get my own cup of coffee.

"At my room," he answers with that arrogant smile of his.

"You're an idiot, you know that, right?" I bite, drinking some of the latte.

"You're such a teenager, Pheebs," he laughs and gets up, just to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" I ask confused.

"They're here. Good thing I got you out of bet, huh?" he asks, as he goes to the foyer. Maybe. Dad might kill me if I was still asleep by now. I follow Ted, tired and annoyed.

"Bite me," I mumble. The door opens and mom and dad enter. I can't help smiling at mom. Maybe she'll control dad, now she's home.

"Hi mom," I say, embracing her. She holds me close in that characteristic way.

"God, I've missed you baby," she whispers in my ear.

"Missed you too, mom." She lets go of me and embraces Ted. Dad puts his arm around me. I don't know if it's because I'm tired or just had a terrible start on the day – there's nothing worse than getting waken the way Ted did to me – or maybe I'm just still mad at him for tracking my phone the other day, but I pull away and go to the dinning room. Dad sighs and follows holding moms' hand. He has really missed her. While eating breakfast I barely speak. All I think about is going to rehearse at Janices' apartment.

"What's on your mind, love?" mom asks, grabbing my hand under the table. It annoys me. Okay, I am _so _PMS today.

"Nothing," I state, pulling my hand away and push away my plate, which is still filled with food that I have no appetite to eat.

"Food was great, Gail," I smile at her as she cleans the table, but leaves my plate after a saying look from my father, "can I leave the table?"

"No," dad answers starring challenging at me. He's like a kid sometimes.

"Great," I mumble, "thanks."

"Ana, tell about you trip," dad says, ignoring me.

"Oh, come on. As if you haven't stalked her every move all week anyway," I say. Jesus Christ, why did I just allow my thoughts to slip out my mouth? Now there's no chance dad will let me go to Caseys'.

"Phoebe," mom sighs, giving me a warning look.

"Phoebe…" dad starts, starring right into my eyes. He makes me uncomfortable, but I keep my head high and my eyes rebellious. I won't let him win.

"I will not tolerate you talking like that to me," he continues. I don't say anything. Just keep looking into his eyes. He stares back.

"Okay…" mom says, grabbing dads' hand. He obviously relaxes, "well, I landed in JFK and then…" I lock her voice out of my head and stare at my plate, the only thing remaining on the table. A dark brown curl falls down and covers some of my face.

"Pheebs… Phoebe!" my mom gets trough to me.

"Yeah. What?" I ask confused as I missed some of the conversation.

"Eat up, Phoebe," dad says before mom gets to say a word.

"I'm not hungry," I say, refusing to look at him.

"Well, then I guess we have to wait here until you're hungry enough to eat the rest of your breakfast," he says unaffected by the way I stare into the wall. There's all quiet around the table.

"Great. Can I leave the table, please? I have plans and no time for waiting until Pheebs's no longer a teenager," Ted sighs.

"Yeah, you can leave," mom says and he kisses her cheek before he leaves the room.

"This is unfair to your mom, Phoebe. This was supposed to be a nice time with the family gathered. Why do you try to ruin that?" dad just won't give up.

"Christian," mom sighs, trying to catch my eye. I stay quiet, only because I know that in this moment, that's what upsets him the most.

"I would really like to get unpacked," mom says after around ten minutes with none of us speaking.

"Yeah, just go. I'll stay," dad promises and kisses her passionate. She gives my shoulder a squeeze.

"Just get it over with, love. You've barely eaten anything," she sighs and leaves the room. I remain quiet. Another fifteen minutes passes. I wish I could text Casey that I probably won't be able to make practice and that she shouldn't wait for me. Damn my dad. He would discover any attempt at texting and take my phone.

"Christian? Would you please come and help me get rid of this suitcase?" mom yells from the second floor, probably just finished unpacking. Dad sighs.

"I'll be right there, baby!" he yells back and gets up with his hawk-eyes on me, "you stay right there, young lady!" he orders before he leaves the room. Great. I pull my phone from my pocket and write a quick text for Casey.

#Won't make practice today. Tell the others, that I'm sorry. See ya#

I grab my phone and sneak to the foyer, where I hide my phone in the antique vase from China – just try to track my phone now, dad. Then I get my coat, open the door without a sound and list outside. I run around the house and through the garden to the private forest behind our house. Maybe it's just another teen riot, maybe I just enjoy upsetting my dad. The thought of sneaking of to practice strikes me, but that would be ridicules. I can't risk him finding me in the middle of a very intense duet with Kyle – I can't risk losing dance. Even though the sight of his face might be worth it. I keep walking through the forest, hoping to find something in the end, something useful. Hopefully not a fence.

All I know is that one more second in that house would make me lose my mind.


	9. The big search

Ten minutes pass before I hear my name's getting shout somewhere in the distance. The forest seems to continue. So I continue.

"Phoebe!" that one's definitely dad. Even though it has begun to drizzle, I don't turn back. Actually, to be completely honest, I'm afraid to do so. They'll kill me. But in a way I don't regret leaving. It's nice to actually be able to think. On the other hand… well, I don't regret leaving in relation to dad, but I'm sorry to do it to my mom. I've missed her so much and this is how I welcome her? Great. I'm such a bitch.

Why am I so foresighted? A fence. That's just fantastic. Of course a fence surrounds the entire site. This is just so dad. The drizzle has turned to rain and I'm suddenly thankful for the huge trees, which takes most of the water. I sit down under a great oak and close my eyes. This sucks.

.

I wake by someone grabbing my arm. My eyes flies wide open and I see Taylors' serious face. Shit. I, for some reason, panic and gets up faster than ever.

"Please," I beg desperately, my heart beating so loud, I'm sure he can hear it, "Taylor, please!" He looks at me, disappointed and worried.

"Mr. Grey! I found her, sir!" he grabs my arm again, keeping me from running – which would be just an inch too overdramatic, but you never know. I can hear how people run through the forest and about at the same time Luke, Sawyer and of course my dad appears. He looks furious; a thundercloud would be a serious understatement.

"Good work, Taylor," he almost whispers. And then he's by my side. Just like that. Before I even get to say a word, he throws me over his shoulder like a five year old and starts walking back towards the house. It's so embarrassing. I feel like a naughty kid.

"If you know what's good for you, you stop struggling and keep quiet _right now_," he says so cold I realize that I'm freezing like hell. I stay still, even though I really just feel like running away. The walk through the forest is surprisingly quick and suddenly we're by the house. Oh shit. Probably to drag out the embarrassment, he keeps me over his shoulder all the way into the foyer. The warm air inside makes me shiver even more and he puts me down on the floor.

"God damn it, Phoebe!" he hisses and pulls my jacket of a bit more harsh, than he has to. Then, to my surprise he pulls my sweater over my head and then tries to open my jeans.

"Dad!" I interject, trying to step away. He grabs my arm and pulls down my jeans with the other hand and gets me out of my soaking shoes.

"You need to get out of this wet clothes, Phoebe!" he says as I'm left in only a top and my panties. Mom and Gail enter the room and mom throws a carpet around me, holding me close. She looks furious as well. Holy shit.

"You are in so much trouble," she hisses. My heart beats faster. This was the worst idea I've had for months. Dad grabs me and carries me to the living room where he places me in front of the burning fireplace.

"Are you very cold?" he asks harsh. Gail gives him another carpet, which he pulls around me.

"I'm okay, dad," I whisper, already feeling the cold sneaking into my system. Now I'm going to become sick as well. I know it's my own fault, I'm the only one to blame, but that doesn't make it suck any less.

"Gail, make some tea," dad orders and Gail disappears to go do as he said. Mom starts rubbing my arms and hands to get them warm.

"Mom, seriously. I'm fine," I interject.

"You're fine? Are you fucking kidding me?" she bites. Dad starts walking around the room just like he always does when he's thinking.

"Phoebe, not only did you do this, only to worry and disobey us, you also risked your own well being. You are absolutely aware of how I feel about you not taking care of yourself. That's why I make you eat up, that's why I make you wear a fucking jacket. To make sure you're healthy," he begins, stopping in front of me, staring into my eyes probably to make his words sink in.

"I'm sorry, dad," I whisper and I mean it, "I just… I couldn't breathe. I needed to get out." Dad sighs and caresses my cheek gently.

"I hope you still remember our last serious conversation. All I… _we _do is for your own good. Sometimes you need to trust us, _because _we're your parents. Okay?" he says, slowly. I don't answer. I don't know what to say.

"Okay, Phoebe?" he repeats and lifts me by my chin.

"Yes…" I mumble. He pulls me into his arms.

"God, you scared the shit out of me," he whispers, kissing my forehead. Somehow I wish they would both stop touching me. I love them, of course, but today is just one of those days. Those days where I just need to be alone with my thoughts. A pretty bad day to also be PMS, I know.

"I'm sorry I ruined today, mom," I say and she grabs my hand. It takes all my strength to not pull my hand out of hers.

"It's okay, love. But… is there something you need to tell us? About…" she hesitates, "you know, the food." I look confused at her.

"What do you mean?"

"It's just… is there sometimes where you feel like you _can't _eat?" I writhe.

"Ehh, well… sometimes I'm just not hungry. You know? I just don't _feel _like eating," I answer. Mom looks worried at dad.

"Hey, easy now. I'm not anorectic, okay? Sometimes I'm just not hungry. It's no big deal," I hurry saying. They always overreact.

"Okay. We believe you. Just promise to say so if you… lose it sometime, okay?" dad orders. I just nod.

"Are you warm, baby?" mom asks.

"Yeah. Thanks for… I don't now, getting my very teenage-ish behavior," I say slowly, trying to escape the many carpets. Dad smiles that smug smile.

"Yeah. You're still grounded for a week, Miss Grey," he says. I nod once. A week. Then I'll just be able to make the dance performance without having to use the window – which is no problem, by the way.

"Get to bed and stay under the quilt today, okay?" dad says as I leave the room – I know they'll love some time alone.

"You said I was grounded. That indicates me in my room, not in my bed," I interject. There's nothing I hate more than spending the day in the bed.

"Well, then you're _bed-grounded _for a day and regular grounded for six days. Your bed. Now, young lady," he orders. I sigh resignedly and walk towards my room. I don't think I got the nerves to disobey him again today. Which means I can look forward to a day surrounded by pillows and drinking Camille tea and get soup forced down my throat. I hate it. But I'm Phoebe Grey, a part of the Grey family. When Christian Grey speaks you obey, so I do. I go to my room, only to discover my quilt missing and then go to Teds' room. He looks furious as well. Oh god. I mean, I love him, but he's turning into a control-freak just like his dad.

"You stupid kid!" he bites and embraces me. I can't help laughing.

"Sorry, bud. I completely lost it."

"You think?!"

"Sorry," I sigh and let him hold me close for another second. Then I pull away.

"You got my quilt?" he hesitates, staring into my eyes.

"Yeah. Listen, Pheebs… are you okay? Your rebellious outbreaks has become an almost daily event," he bites his bottom lip.

"I'm fine, Ted," I promise and get my quilt.

"Really? Cause you know, you can tell me anything, right? I don't tell."

"I know, Ted. And… you know, even though I seem to just take it for granted… I'm really glad you're my brother." I really don't tell him enough.

"Sure. One of us has to keep it cool," he teases. I roll my eyes, but can't help smiling at him.

"They really should have stopped by one," I laugh.

"Are you kidding me? Life would be boring without you here. Trust me, dad needs someone to stand up against him now and then. Just not every day. Choose your battles. Okay?" he advises.

"Okay," I nod, "thanks."

"Alwa…"

"Phoebe Grey, unless you brought you imaginary friend with you, it doesn't sound like you're in your bed right now!" dad yells from down stairs. Ted laughs.

"Uh-uh. You better do as he says," he laughs and gives me a light push towards the door.

"I hate having to spend the day in bed," I complain.

"And I hate it when my sister disappears. Bed!" he sound just like dad. It's both impressive and scary as hell. Ted will become a fabulous businessman someday.

.

**Thanks for reviewing and following. I got a review saying that Phoebe isn't very likeable – and the review being from a guest, I can't answer this person directly. But if the same thought has crossed your mind, it's completely on purpose. She's a brat, and no, she's not fully aware of how much. But you'll understand it later in the story. I promise.**

**Please review. Every day I fight to get better.**

**- Em .x**


	10. Mirror Mirror

As soon as I enter the stage the next Saturday I see Teddy right there in the front row. He's smiling all over his face. I knew he would make it.

_Time will bring the right end to our trial…_

Kyle and I start dancing and I enjoy the gasps from the crowd as he pulls me in. We're so close not even the tiniest air bubble could fit between us.

_No trace, no residual feelings within' ya, one day you won't remember me…_

The Pretty Wings duet has never been better. I know that as soon as we finish the routine and bow in front of the cheering crowd. Another charity show well ended. The big final is the "Wings" routine where all of us are dancing. I really get to show my ballet skills as I have a solo while the kid choir in the songs sings. As soon as we are allowed to leave I hurry to Teddy who's waiting for me with an impatient look.

"See you, Grey!" Casey says as I run past her.

"Yeah, see you," I say and finally make it to Ted.

"How much time do we got?" I ask, forcing the air down my lungs.

"Dad just texted my that they just left the apartment. We can make it, but we have to move fast as hell," he says as we hurry to the parking lot. Matt is waiting in his Audi and we almost throw our self into the car.

"Hit it, man," Ted orders and Matt steeps on the speeder. He drives incredibly fast, but in this moment I'm glad he does. If mom and dad get home before us, we'll be _so _dead.

"By the way, sis: you were amazing," Ted says as we've driven for a moment in silence.

"Thanks," I can't help smiling.

"Oh, and tell that guy, Kyle, that if he ever tries to take advantage of your partnership, I'm going to beat him up," he says it like he's commenting the weather.

"I'll remember that," I laugh.

.

We're home exactly seven minutes before our parents and has thereby seven minutes to make it look like we've been home all morning, and not at a dance show where I got extremely intimate with a guy my dad would never approve. Ted gets some breakfast and offers me some.

"No thanks," I just say and go to my room to get ready. As if a charity dance isn't enough we're also going to a charity party tonight with our parents. I put on the long, black dress I bought for the event and take a look in the mirror. Wait. Something's different. I examine the dress from all sides and feel my heart beat faster as I let my hand slide over the little bump on my stomach. Then I lift the dress to look at my legs. Yes, something's definitely different. I've gained weight, I realize. No. I can't! As a female dancer, you can't gain weight. You have to be light enough for the guys to lift you. I did notice how Kyle's arms cracked beneath me for a moment today. Shit. I try not to think about it as I do my hair and makeup, but my hand keeps touching my belly. It somehow feels like the flesh grows under my hand. Oh God.

.

"Mr. Grey, Mrs. Grey! Great to see you," some guy I've never met greets my parents. Dad stoop to shake his hand, but keeps his left hand on moms' waist. The tent we're inside is really big and there are small ovens all over the place to keep the cold Washington air in a decent distance.

"And this must be your kids," the man continues and shakes first Teddys' hand, then mine.

"This is my son, Newton. He's looking for an internship after the holiday," as the man says these words my dads' eyes narrows. Ah, that's what this is about. He tries to get an internship at Grey Enterprises Holdings for his son. The blonde son rolls his eyes and smiles at me. God. Another rich mans' son who tries to get to my dad through me.

"It looks like I'm your dinner partner tonight, Miss Grey," Newton smiles. Dad looks very unpleased, which in a way encourage me to flirt, just a bit, with this Newton guy.

"Please call me Phoebe," I say as I nod at my parents and follow Newton to our table. A couple of minutes later Ted arrives with Yaya, a Chinese girl we've met a couple of times before. Of course dad made sure that Ted would be at the same table as me. Which of us, he doesn't trust isn't hard to figure out. The charity event begins, but I'm too tired to keep up. To be honest the host is nothing like my grandma, and everyone knows that Grace Grey throws the best charity parties.

"You look like you're bored," Newton whisper during an, on the border to silly, feature.

"I am," I whisper back and my hand slides over the bump on my belly. Oh God.

"You look very beautiful," he says and I smile strained. I feel like asking him, why he's lying, but I don't. The internship, obviously.

"Thanks," I mumble and writhe. This is extremely uncomfortable.

"Well, I could find better things to do a Saturday evening, I must admit."

"Yeah… me too," Newton says, suddenly all flirty again. He's not pretty, but I'll have to admit he's not bad. Blonde hair, bright blue eyes, tall. I'm not this girl. I'm not, I swear. But this day turned into a sucking one, and I need to feel beautiful again. My hand circulates on my stomach.

"Yeah? Like what?" I whisper. Ted is lost in a conversation with Yaya, so he doesn't notice anything.

"If you want to, I might show you later," Newton promises. I smile. It feels like my thighs grow against the chair.

"Well, maybe…" I say and turn my attention towards the host just as the dinner is being announced. Four dishes. My hand touches my belly, then my thighs. Oh God.

.

I feel stuffed as I lay my hand carefully on Newtons' knee. I'm not this girl. I'm not this girl. But… but… I stare at my belly.

"Would you… show me?" I ask as people, mostly grown ups goes to the dance floor. Newton flashes a huge smile.

"Of course," he whispers and nods against the toilets. I get up.

"Excuse me," I mumble – I will never get used to these silly formalities. Then I go to the toilet, my heart beating faster. I only have to wait a couple of minutes by the toilet before Newton arrives. He smiles that all teeth and lips smile and bends down to kiss me. I'm not this girl. I struggle with my own conscious.

"Wait… did you mean it?" I ask nervously.

"Mean what, baby?" he grunts as he bites my earlobe.

"That I'm beautiful," I moan. He's hands are gliding down my back.

"Of course. The most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he promises. I nod once. Then I let him lead me into the toilet.

.

I lean against the wall as Newton leaves the toilet.

"You might want to wait a couple of minutes before you go out there," he says and then closes the door behind him. I start to cry. Stupid girl. Silly girl. Naive girl. Ugly girl. Honestly I've never felt uglier than in this very moment. Newton wasn't my first; I'm not _that _dumb. But this still tops all the mistakes I've ever made. I stare into my own eyes in the mirror. The light gray eyes are dead, filled with sorrow and pain. Stupid girl. I stare at my belly. I swear it's grown. I feel like breaking the mirror. Punch it so hard it'll crack. Instead I turn towards the toilet and fall on my knees in front of it. I need to get some of this food out, so I can breathe again.

That was the first time I ever did it. All alone in a bathroom at a charity party, whose host I've never met before, right after a guy, I wish to never see again, has left. And I've never felt more lost.

.

"Phoebe, where have you been?" Teddy asks worried as I arrive at the table again. I know I'm pale, I know my face shows signs that I've cried, even though I tried to wash it off.

"The toilet. I feel sick. I'll have Taylor drive me home. Will you tell mom and dad?" I ask and leave with my purse before he gets to answer. Quicker than ever I'm at the parking lot and find the black SUV. I enter the backseat and Taylor turns around, surprised to see me.

"I'm feeling sick. Will you drive me home?" I must sound awfully pathetic but honestly I don't give a shit. I _am_ pathetic.

"Of course, Phoebe," he falls out of the roll as he calls me by my first name, but get it together, "are you okay, Miss?"

"I'm fine. Just take me home," I whisper and stare out the window. I've never been a liar. But apparently I just turned into one. It's disturbing. I'm a lost liar. A lost, fat liar. I let a couple of my fingers press on the bump. Liar.

**I hope this story didn't turn too dark for you in a single chapter. This has been my intention all the way, but as I wrote it, I realized that I probably made it too unpredictable. I barely have left any clues for you guys in the latter chapters. I apologize, but this has been the idea with the story all along. I hope you still like it and will continue reading.**

**Please review.**

**- Em .x**


	11. The little girl

The days pass. I get up. I go to school. I get home. I eat dinner. I go to the toilet right after dinner. I go to dance. I go to bed. Every day is the same. I don't think she's noticed yet, but I'm really keeping my distance when it comes to Casey. Actually I'm keeping my distance in relation to everyone, especially mom and dad. They desperately try to get through to me. They try to wake me up, to make me present again. But I can't. It's like my body is rejecting the entire action of moving on. I can't. All I do is stare into the mirror and then bend over the toilet to let out my frustration and pain. I can't do anything.

_Phoebe, you have to eat something._

_Eat up!_

_Please baby, just eat something._

_Phoebe, if you don't start eating right now, you can forget about going out tonight!_

_Love, please let us help you._

_Talk to us._

_Please, Phoebe._

_Please._

I can't. I feel empty. I've dropped street dance and often skip ballet. The only thing I still do regularly is contemporary dance – and vomit, of course. I wish I could do something to stop worrying my parents. But I don't have the energy. I'm drained. I'm lost. There's nothing left in my life I'm sure of – except the fact, that I'm hurting my family. I've begun to wear loose and two sizes too big clothes to hide myself. I can't let the guys at Janices' know that I'm about to be too heavy to continue dancing. My grades skydive to E's and F's, and I don't care. I know I can forget college if I keep up that standard, but as mentioned I'm drained. Another thing that's skydiving is my weight. I'm pretty sure our weight is broken, because the mirror tells me something else. I stare at my tired eyes, my pale, sallow skin and the bump on my stomach. Yeah. It's definitely broken.

.

It's just another evening in my fucking life. Gail brings the dinner. I push the food around on my plate and eat a bite now and then. Dad tries not to comment, but I can see that it's bothering him. Mom looks at me regularly with worried eyes. When they are finished, I'm only half way through my meal. I know what's next. Ted stares at me, challenging. I keep my eyes on my plate.

"Phoebe…" dad sighs and mom grabs my hand. I pull it away as if she burned me. My touching issues have become worse since the whole Newton-episode. Mom tries to hide the fact that my action hurt her. I try to look like I don't know.

"What is going on? Tell us," dad orders with a voice filled with authority. I just stare at my plate. What can I say? If I keep telling them I have stomachache they'll force me to the doctor. And the doctor will know.

"Nothing. I'm just not hungry. I went on a café with Casey after school, so I'm full," I lie. Liar. I came home right after school.

"Why are you lying? I went out after school. Sawyer drove you home," Ted says with that challenging look. _Yes, why are you lying?_ a voice inside me ask. I look to my side and that is the first time I see her. She has long, black hair, pale skin and she's skinny. Her face is all blurred. But she's there. She's only about ten inches tall and she stands there next to me with a hand in the side, looking pending on me. I know it's my imagination. I know she's not real. But she's real to me.

"Are you lying, Phoebe?" mom asks confused. Dad looks just like Ted challenging.

"No," I whisper. _Liar!_ the black-haired little girl hisses. I get up and leave the table without permission.

"Hey, Phoebe! Get back here!" dad calls behind me, but I continue upstairs into my room and close the door. The I lock it. The little girl is right behind me. _Isn't it enough to be ugly? Do you have to be a liar as well?_ she asks. I feel like kicking her. But she's not real. She's not real. That's my new mantra. She's not real. Leave me alone, I tell her. She laughs. _Okay fine. And then what? You'll just be fat and ugly all alone? I can help you, you know._ This makes me think for a second. How? I ask. _I know how you can become beautiful. If you do as I say, that will happen._ I stare at her. How? How?! _First, you can't trust anybody. Especially not your family and for all in the world, don't trust your friends. They'll try to make you ugly on purpose. _I feel powerless. I feel like I've lost myself, the rebellious, sarcastic, angry Phoebe within a couple of weeks. How did this happen?

"Phoebe! Open up!" dad calls from the other side of the door. Knowing he can get in if he wants to, I open up and stare at him with awe.

"Daddy please, I'm just not hungry," I whisper – afraid that he'll force me to eat. The "daddy" has always worked with him. He caresses my cheek as he always does. Ever since I was a little kid, him doing that made me feel loved and taking cared of. _How can Christian Grey love someone like you?_ the little girl frowns. I tell her to shut up. Maybe I haven't completely lost myself after all. I can still be a bitch. Even though I'm a bitch to a none-existing five year old, it's a step forward.

"Are you sick, baby?" he ask and hold his hand at my forehead to feel if I'm warm.

"I don't know… I just feel uncomfortable," I whisper. I'm not lying. Uncomfortable is the best word to describe my condition. I feel like I don't belong in my own body.

"Phoebe, you have to talk to us," he sighs frustrated and runs his hand through his hair, "it's killing us to see you like this."

"I'm sorry daddy. I just have a bad day, that's all," I promise. _Liar!_ Apparently dad also knows I'm lying.

"A bad day? Pheebs, it's been like this for weeks. Ever since the charity party," he says frustrated. I hate making him feel that way, and even without having rebelled against him. I don't answer. What should I say?

"Okay, here's what we do," dad says determined. Oh Christian Grey, always so effective, "you go to bed. Now. And you stay in bed. Tomorrow you stay home with mom and me and we'll talk this through, okay?" My heart sinks, but I don't show.

"Okay," I whisper, "can I take a shower before going to bed?" He smiles at me.

"Of course, princess. Sweet dreams," I seriously doubt it. Right before leaving, he turns around.

"I love you, you know?"

"I love you too, dad," I say with a tiny voice. That's how I'm feeling at the moment; tiny.

.

I wake up groggy and confused by someone screaming. Then I realize it was me. I screamed in my sleep. My mom enters the room, looking as worried as ever.

"Phoebe," she gasps and rushes to my side. Scared as hell I throw my arms around her and pull her in. I cling to her while I desperately try to breathe. The dream… oh God, the _nightmare_. It felt so real. I was so... ugly. And Newton… Newton… shit.

"Shh baby, it's okay. It was just a dream," she promises. I want to yell that it wasn't. It wasn't just a dream. That's what scares me. But I can't. I can't worry her anymore.

"Ana? What's going on?" I hear dad ask from the doorway. Mom kisses my forehead and holds me close.

"It's okay, Christian. I got this," she promises and after a moment of hesitation, I sense dad leaving.

"Do you want to tell my what your dream was about?" she whispers as she stroke her hand over my head, making me relax. For the first time since the charity party I feel safe. And the little girl is gone. For now.

"I don't remember," I lie.

"Okay baby. Are you okay?" she whispers, still embracing me. I love feeling like a little kid again, just for a couple of seconds. It's much less complicated. I shake my head. I haven't been okay for a while now.

"Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" she asks. I don't like asking her to stay, but I really want her to. Me not answering is apparently enough for her.

"Okay, I'll stay," she kisses my head, "fall asleep, baby girl." I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling of my moms' protective arms around me.

.

Oh God. I have to tell them something. I have to give them a reason so they'll stop worry. It's unfair to them. I hate this. Them sitting there on the same side of the dinner table, me on the other side, facing them. Like a criminal getting interrogated by the police. I nervously wring my hands. What should I tell them? _Lie, _the little girl advises me. She's standing there by my side, watching my every move. I can't lie anymore. I have to tell them the truth. Well… at least some of it. But… I take a look on my dad. He'll never understand. I take a deep breath.

"Can I talk to mom… alone?" I ask with a tiny voice. Dads' eyes flies up.

"Excuse me?" he almost coughs.

"I just… I'd rather just talk to mom… it's kind of a girl thing… sorry, dad," I whisper. His eyes burn.

"Phoebe, if you can't even tell me, I'm…"

"Christian," mom interrupts sharply, "will you follow me outside for a moment?" Dad frowns, but follows her out of the room. I can't hear what they are saying, but mom enters the room alone. Thank God for Anastasia Steele… Grey. She sits and looks at me, awaiting my explanation. I don't know where to start, and I'm thankful that she'll help me figure out.

"Why don't you start by telling why you don't want your father to be here?" she asks softly, loving. I look down. I don't deserve the love of this incredible woman. _No you don't, twat, _the little girl hisses. She's angry that I didn't take her advice.

"He'd be embarrassed in me," I whisper. That's the awful truth. I can't stand the thought of disappointing my dad – I know mom won't react as strongly as the controlling, overprotective Mr. Grey. Mom shakes her head.

"He would never be embarrassed in you, Phoebe. I promise."

"This time he would. _I _promise," I whisper and covers my face with my hands. Don't cry! Don't you dare cry, Phoebe Grace Grey! Mom knows better than touching me, which I am grateful for.

"Okay…" I clear my throat, trying to keep in the sobs, "ehm, do you remember my dinner partner from the charity party? Newton, the guy who wanted an internship with dad?" Mom nods slowly. I'm pretty sure she knows where this is going. This is the part of the truth I've decided to tell. It's easier than the rest.

"Well… I felt so ugly that evening, mom. I felt… repulsive. And he told me, I was beautiful," I whisper. It sounds stupid when I say it out loud. I am stupid.

"Baby," she whispers and finally grabs my hand. I let her keep it even though everything in my screams that I should pull away, "please tell me you didn't…" she lets the rest of the sentence hang in the air. I close my eyes. I feel so fragile. So wrong.

"I can't… cause I did," I whisper, "all because he said I was beautiful. I'm so fucking stupid." Then I start to cry. Mom kisses my hand.

"It's okay, baby. It's… it's going to be okay. I promise." I bite my bottom lip.

"Thank you, mom. For understanding," I whisper. I've never been more thankful for my moms' cold overview. She knows that if she starts telling me of I'd might break.

"Did you use protection?" I know she has to ask. I nod.

"Yes. Of course." She nods relieved. Then she doesn't have to worry if I'm pregnant.

"Listen, Pheebs… I'm…" she doesn't end the sentence. She just stares at something behind me. I turn around and see my father there in the doorway. His horrified face reveals him: he has heard everything.

**So… she's not pregnant. Don't worry. I've already read that story inhere somewhere, haha. Enjoy and please review!**

**- Em .x**


	12. Out of character

I'm in chock. My head is completely empty; I have no idea what to say. Oh my god. In the face of my father I find a mixture of pain, panic, anger and chock. They all struggle to take over his body and make him react. I'm not sure I'll survive this. Next stop: boarding school. Finally a feeling wins and it makes my heart sink and my hands sweaty. He looks _furious. _I've never seen him angrier than in this moment. And trust me, I've seen some pretty god damn terrible moments when it comes to my father.

"Christian…" my moms voice is careful and chocked. She knows that a single blow will make him explode. Shit. _You should have lied, _the little girl laughs smug. She has grown and is now about two feet high, but she still looks like a five year old. I have to agree with her. I should have lied.

"Christian," my mom repeats. He holds up his hand to stop her.

"Don't, Anastasia. Not now." At least he's aware of his condition. The little girl lifts an eyebrow. _How are you going to get through this one, fatty? _I don't know. Break down and cry and hope that he'll feel sorry for me? Run off? Attack before he attacks me? _I vote for the last one! _The little girl comments eagerly.

"Phoebe Grey, you need to give me a very good reason not to lock you inside your room for the rest of your life," his voice is hoarse and low. I keep my eyes on him, take in his every move.

"What do you want me to say?" my voice is stronger than I expected. I thought it would crack in fear. But I'm tired. I'm so fucking tired of everything. Dad doesn't answer. I'm so scared. But I'm also feeling drained. Nothing matters anymore. Maybe I should just get it over with. Maybe I should just show them who I am behind all the wishes of making them proud and the pressure of living up to their – and my own – expectations. I don't want to do it anymore. I should show them who I am, exactly how unlovable I actually am. I don't deserve them. Any of them. Dads' words from our conversation so long ago hunt me: "The kids in the streets of Seattle? Don't you think they'll do anything to have your opportunities?" Yes. They would. But I don't deserve any of it.

"What do you want dad? An apology?!" His eyes turn huge, confused and angry in a second. I stare back with the exact same look. Our eyes are the exact same color.

"I am this close to…"

"What? What, dad?! What will you do? Send me away? Please do so!" I hiss while my heart's breaking. _Good job, fatty. Soon you'll be alone to do as you please. Make them let go! _The little girl cheers. Shut up! I scream at her inside my mind.

"Young lady, if you don't watch out right now…" again I interrupt him.

"What's the big deal! Yes, dad. If you really want me to say it out loud: I let a random guy fuck me in a toilet with you in a tent only 200 feet away. And _so what_!" I snarl, when what I feel like doing the most is cry and beg him to forgive me. But no, not this time. He deserves more. Mom deserves more.

"Phoebe!" mom gasps terrified. I look defiant at her.

"I am so disappointed in you," dad hisses. I know. I know.

"And I don't care! It's my body, I let whoever I want fuck it!" I bite. I don't mean a word. I want to tell them how much I love them. How much I need them. _You're doing good, _the girl promises. Dads' eyes are flaming.

"You're only sixteen!" the look mom gives dad reveals it all: dad had sex when he was sixteen. Well hallo Mr. Double.

"Come on! Like Newton's the only one!" I sneer, "you really think I've told you every time I've fucked someone?!" The next thing happens before I get to react. He doesn't hit hard, it's more the fact that he actually hit me that chocks me. The flat hand lands at my cheek with a loud sound and for the first time it's not there to caress it. I stare furious at him. Then I run out of the room and get my jacket.

"Christian!" my mom gasps, and then follows me.

"Phoebe, baby…" she tries to make me calm down. Of course.

"I stay with Casey tonight," I snarl and run out the house. I'm lucky. Outside Sawyer just arrived with the black A8. I jump into the car and try to hide my tears. Sawyer hurries back into the car.

"Phoebe, are you okay?" he asks worried. No Miss Grey today. Thank God, just the name Grey makes me angry.

"No. Please take me to Caseys," I whisper. He hesitates.

"Now, Sawyer!" I scream uncontrolled.

"Pheebs, you now I'd love to, but I have to ask your dad before I drive you anywhere," he sighs, still with the characteristic authorized voice.

"Fine!" I snap angrily. If he tries to stop me from leaving I'll drive the fucking car myself – and maybe break it, now I got the chance. Sawyer nods once and takes up a phone. It's on speaker in the car and I close my eyes as I prepare myself to hear his voice.

"What, Sawyer?!" I hear dad hiss – he sounds… so unhappy. And it's my fault. Sawyer writhe.

"Asking for permission to drive Miss Grey to her friends house, sir," Sawyer says, as always sounding like a soldier.

"Phoebe?"

"Yes, sir."

"Which friend?"

"Casey, sir." Dad hesitates.

"Okay…" wait… he just said yes? Damn, then I don't get to break his car.

"Thank you, sir," Sawyer says.

"Don't hang up, Sawyer," dad orders. I start to freeze.

"Phoebe…?" he begins sounding so painful. I stay quiet, "Phoebe, please say something." I stare defiant out the window. Dad sighs.

"Okay. That's all. Bye, Sawyer." Dad ends the call. Sawyer looks worried at me.

"Would you take me? Please," I whisper. He turns on the engine and starts driving.

.

Right before I leave the car, Sawyer turns around.

"It's gonna be okay, Phoebe. I know. They love you so much," he promises. I don't think I've ever heard Sawyer be so personal around me before.

"Thank you, Sawyer," I whisper and get out. He stays at the sidewalk until he's seen me disappear into Caseys house. Inside Caseys mom greets me, confused but glad to see me as always.

"Phoebe. I didn't expect you today," she smiles. Casey enters the room and from the look in her face I suddenly remember why she's my best friend.

"Mom, can Pheebs sleep here tonight?" she asks without even knowing what's wrong. I love her.

"Yeah… of course…?" Caseys mom says confused.

"Thanks," Cas grabs my hand and pulls me upstairs and into her room. She knows me to well.

"Okay. Let's hear," Casey almost orders and sits on her bed. I close my eyes.

"I think I just had the worst argument with my dad ever," I whisper. She lifts an eyebrow.

"Well, that says a lot," she mumbles. She has never understood why I argue that much with my dad. But she has no idea what it's like. Being locked into a golden cage by a loving, foolish, overprotective, moodswinging, powerful man with a sick need of control. He can't exist without controlling the people he loves: to keep them safe. I grew up protected and sheltered from the entire world, held in the shortest leash possible. But I have to make my own mistakes; I have to learn how to function in this world. I have to get a work sometime, grow up, and take care of myself. I can't live from my parents' money my entire life. Even though dad might prefer that: his little princess shouldn't get dirty hands. I feel so helpless, like a little girl you have to shelter and protect. But I've learned to take care of myself on my own. I wish they would give me a chance to prove that to them.

"He hit me, Cas," I whisper and keep in the tears.

"_What?!_" Hesitant I tell her the story about Newton and dads' reaction to the news that his baby isn't a virgin. Casey tells me off for sleeping with Newton, but end her preach by hugging me. I let her, even though I hate her touching me. Around nine Ted shows up with Taylor. Weird. Ted walks straight to me and embraces me.

"Are you okay, baby?" he asks. I nod. Taylor gives me a bag with some clothes. I bet Gail has packed it for me. He looks conflicted. Then he finally speaks his mind.

"You're an idiot, Phoebe." I've known him my entire life and I've never heard him this honest before. Ted stares surprised at him.

"You act like a kid. If you really are as grown up as you claim, you would go home and solve this instead of hiding," Taylor says.

"Do you even know what happened?" I ask surprised.

"Yes. And if Sophie pulled the same shit, I would have done the exact same as your dad," Taylor snaps. Wow. Taylor defends my dad? And course at me? This seems to be the hour of honesty.

"I… I…" what? I what? Taylor took my by surprise. He always stays neutral, but this seems to bother him.

"I think it's time to come home and face the trouble. Don't you?" his voice turns softer. Then I realize: Taylor is a father. He must understand the angry Mr. Grey even though I don't.

"I'm gonna stay here tonight, Taylor," I whisper. The little girl nods encouraging – she's always there by my side, ready to advise me… and tell me the truth. As the only one in my life. Taylor nods, facing defeat.

"Okay. I'll pick you up tomorrow and drive you to school."

"I drive with Casey."

"No, you don't. Goodnight, Phoebe," he says and does something even more surprising. He leans down and kisses my cheek. I think my jaw is hanging by my knees.

"When you are ready, Mr. Grey," he says to Ted and leaves the house.

"Wow," I mumble. Ted stares at the closed door.

"Did Taylor just turn… human?" he says confused. First dad, then Sawyer and now Taylor? Why is everyone so out of character today?

"Can this day become even more freaky?"

.

**Please review and tell me what you think! Reviews encourage me to keep writing. Thanks for all the sweet review so far! They really make my day.**

**- Em .x**


	13. Guest in the night

When Casey wakes me up it's still dark outside. Shit. What's happening?

"Pheebs… Phoebe, wake up! Your dad's here," she says. I look groggy at her.

"What?"

"Your dad! He's here," she hisses. Wait… what?! Confused I sit, with a heart that threatens to beat out of my chest.

"What is he doing here?" I whisper scared. I can't face him. Funny enough I'm not angry anymore. I understand him – in some sick way. I'm repulsive. _I _would hit me if I had the chance.

"I don't know! But he requires to talk to you," she says. I get up and put on some pants. Jesus Christ.

"Fine. Where is he?"

"Do you really want to talk to him?"

"Yes. I… I said some pretty terrible things. I provoked him. He just lost his temper," I say. What?! Is that how I feel? _Don't talk to him! _The little girl screams, _don't you want to be alone? Don't you see that if you talk to him, he'll never let you be? Don't you see you don't deserve him? _I don't know what to do. I feel like breaking down and cry. I don't know how much longer I can do this.

"Phoebe… are you sure?" she asks. I nod apathetic and leave the room. Downstairs I can hear dad talking to Caseys mom, but what they're saying is blurred. I enter the kitchen hesitant and dad looks at me. His eyes are red, his skin is pale and his posture is weak and crouched. Caseys mom leaves the room.

"Dad," I mumble as a greeting. He walks to me, but stops two meters from me. He asks for permission to come closer with his eyes. And suddenly that's all I want him to do. _Don't, you idiot! _The little girl screams. Bite me, I mumble mentally and take a little step closer to dad. He runs his hand through his hair and removes the distance between us. With two fingers he lifts my head by my chin and looks examining on my cheek. The pain in his eyes is breathtaking – in the bad way. I checked my cheek right before going to bed. It's not even red. Dad caresses the place where his flat hand hit a couple of hours ago. It's almost surreal.

"Shit," he whispers and the pain in his voice breaks my heart, "I'm so sorry, Phoebe. Really, I don't know what came over me. I'm so sorry." And then I realize that he's crying.

"Dad, I'm okay," I whisper. _Wrong answer! _The girl screams. I wish she was real so I could kick her ass.

"I'm just like her. I'm just like her," he whispers desperately.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm so sorry, Phoebe. I know you can't forgive me, but…"

"I forgive you," I interrupt. He looks completely overwhelmed. Do I?

"What?"

"I forgive you," I repeat. He shakes his head.

"No… you can't. I'm just like her," he cries. Terrible enough, I don't feel anything. Or maybe I do, but I'm captured in this shell of… nothing.

"Who _her_?"

"My… my mom," he whispers lost. His mom? Wait. That woman… what was her name… Ellie? Ella? Mom once told me about her – just another way to excuse why dad is so controlling and commanding. Another way to make me feel bad about disobeying him. In some ways I hate his mom. She ruined my father, she was terrible. And it breaks my heart to realize that my dad thinks he's like her.

"No. You're not," I hear myself saying, not knowing where the words come from, "she did, what she did, because she didn't care. You did, what you did, because you do care." He looks at me through tears. I've never seen my father cry before. It's disturbing and heartbreaking.

"You're just like your mom," he whispers and hesitates, "to be honest all I want to do right now is pull you in, never let go and bring you home." Can I do it? Can I let him touch me to make him feel better? Yes, I decide. I have to. If he knew how I feel when people touch me, he would… I don't know. I don't think anyone knows how it feels.

"Okay," I whisper. He looks so frustrated. Then he steps forward and pulls me in, holding me so close I can barely breathe. It's okay, I think to myself, I can do this. For him.

"Do you hate me?" he mumbles. Do _I _hate _him_? No, dad. But you really should hate me. If he knew who I really am, he wouldn't hold me like this.

"No, dad," I whisper. I wish I could let go of the tears. I feel like screaming in frustration. It's a matter of time before I break. I just can't keep holding on.

"Please come home," he whispers, "I can't sleep. All I could think of was your face right after…" he stops and tighten his arms around me, "I'm so, so sorry. I would never hurt you Phoebe."

"I know, dad."

"I'm still mad at you for the whole Newton thing. But my reaction was so twisted. That doesn't make your actions less wrong, though."

"I know, dad," I sigh. Don't he think the whole Newton thing is killing me?

"Please come home," he repeats. I nod once. That's enough. He looks so relieved. That's when I realize what I just did. I forgave him and now I have to start all over with creating distance and showing them who I am. So I can be alone. So I can achieve perfection without hurting them. Someday when I'm no longer like this, wrong and repulsive, I'll come back. Maybe. But at the moment no one deserves a daughter like me.

.

"Seatbelt," dad orders as he turns on the R8. I sigh and obey, before I stare out the window.

"You can fall asleep if you like to, baby," he says, "I can just carry you to bed." The thought of forcing him to touch me makes me bravely stay awake all the way to the mansion. I have to stop this. I have to do this, so it's easier for them to accept that I'm no longer present. Which means I have to stop talking to them.

.

I don't eat any breakfast, but for the first time dad doesn't comment. He just looks disapprovingly on my full plate; but he didn't force me to eat. Mom is so gentle around me. Every time she talks to me her voice is soft and loving. I don't say anything, even though both mom and Ted beg me to talk. This is the right thing to do, I tell myself as I bend over the toilet and let my frustrations and pain flow out.

In school the talk is all about the prom coming up. I honestly forgot. Jake Berry asks me to be his date and I accept. The other girls are jealous, but I honestly don't care. A couple of months ago, maybe. Now it all seems so irrelevant. Ted gives poor Jake Berry warning and mean eyes all day and I even hear a rumor that he has told Jake to "keep your hands of my baby sister, or you'll regret it." It's just so Teddy.

"What dress are you wearing at the prom, Phoebe?" Rachel asks at lunch. Shit. A dress. I will never find a dress that looks good on me. I'm too ugly.

"Ehh, I don't know yet," I mumble and throw out my salad. I have to be pretty before the prom.

In the break I call my aunt, who I haven't seen forever.

"Mia Grey speaking," she answers the phone.

"Hi Mia, it's Phoebe," I say hesitant. I completely forgot how outgoing she is.

"Hi sweetie! Long time, no see. What's up?" I writhe.

"Well, I just wondered… will you help me buy my prom dress? Mom hates shopping and I don't feel like doing it with my friends," I don't want my friends to see how ugly my body is.

"Of course!" she says and sounds like I just made her day, "can I meet you around 4 PM downtown?"

"Yeah. See you."

"Later, hon."

.

I've tried on about a million dresses before I finally take the black, simple cocktail dress. It's a bit short, but dad just has to live with it.

"It's lovely, Pheebs. Please let me buy it for you," Mia smiles and grabs the dress. I hesitate.

"Come on. Every loving aunt should get the chance to buy her beautiful niece a prom dress," she blinks at me. I can't help smiling. Mia is so easy to be around.

"Well, in that case I should probably call aunt Kate," I tease.

"Ha! Kate can buy Teds' tux. Come on, I'll drive you home."

.

I knew this discussion would occur.

"No way, Mia! I'm paying for _my _daughters' prom dress! Period," dad snaps commanding. I don't care who pays for it. I really need to go to the toilet and get rid of the cake Mia forced me to eat on some fancy café downtown.

"Come on, Christian! I'm her aunt, just let me do this," Mia sighs. Dad turns and looks at me.

"Why did you bring Mia to buy the dress? We agreed to find one together, you, mom and me," he sounds disappointed. In some points dad is so old-fashioned. He insists on buying my prom dress, because proper dads should do that for their daughters – according to him. I don't say anything. Please just drop the issue, so I can get away!

"Christian, this is something I really want to give Phoebe. Besides, you can buy her senior dress," Mia insists. Why is it important who pays the fucking dress?

"And can you afford it?" dad sneer. What? Does Mia have money issues?

"Don't you dare go there, Christian!" Mia hisses. Yeah. She's just like me – or… like I _was_ before the little girl arrived.

"You insist on buying a dress for my daughter, but you won't accept money from me?" he looks so angry and I realize that this has nothing to do with me: he's angry because Mia won't receive money from him. Hmm.

"I don't want your money, Christian!" she almost yells. His eyes flash.

"You're my sister and you came to me with your problems. Do you think I can just watch while you ruin yourself? Have you even told mom and dad and Elliot?" dad sounds so commanding, so controlling. He has probably always been like this towards Mia.

"I can handle this myself!"

"Yeah? You lost your entire fortune and you're too big a coward to tell other people! The only sane thing to do, is to let me help you," his voice turns softer in a second. She sighs like she's giving up.

"Maybe we should continue this conversation in my office?" he suggests. Mia nods, gives my shoulder a squeeze and goes to his office.

"I pay for the dress, Phoebe," dad says, sounding like I was about to discuss it. I nod.

"Whatever," I mumble and hurry to the toilet.

.

**I have to warn you: there's a reason I update this often. I'm from Denmark and there is currently something called "lockout" which means all teachers in the country is "fired" for a limited run – but no one knows how long. This means that I can't go to school, and that's why I update this much. I don't know when the lockout is over, but I just wanted to warn you: I might won't be able to update as much when the lockout is over.**

**Please review.**

**- Em .x**


	14. Prom disaster

The dress is short, shorter than dad usually allows. But right now I don't give a shit. I correct my dark brown curls, and smile trying and false to my own reflection. I should have bought a long dress. This dress shows my legs, big, fat, disgusting legs. Damn. _If you just listened to my once in a while… _the little girl comments, as always standing right next to me.

"Bite me," I mumble. Mom enters the room, smiling all over the face by the look of me in my prom dress. She looks stunning tonight, very a beautiful grey dress and her dark hair hanging freely around her kind face. Her outstanding blue eyes shine and she looks… happy. It makes me feel better. The promise of a night out with dad can still make her look like firework.

"You look beautiful, Pheebs," she says. Liar.

"Thanks, mom," I mumble and follow her down stairs where Jake Berry waits with a huge smile.

"Good evening, beautiful," he whispers and kisses my cheek. The old Phoebe would roll her eyes and send him a flirting smile, always stay as the upper hand. This Phoebe just looks down and whisper: "Hi Jake." Sometimes I miss being impulsive, stubborn and independent. _And fat, _the little girl adds. I ignore her, knowing she's right. Dad stares at me, conflicted and surprised. My heart sinks. I have barely spoken to him since the whole Newton conflict and I know he blames himself. But it's for the best, I keep telling myself. I try hard to create the same distance to mom, but she won't let me. She's stubborn like hell: she can't see that they'll be better of without me. I take a look in the mirror in the foyer. It feel like years since I took a satisfied look in that mirror and went to dance, happy and blind to what I did to everyone around me. I hurt everyone and I hurt myself.

"Are you ready, Grey?" Jake asks and grabs my hand – something in his eyes, a certain hunger, worries me. I ignore my irrational self and smile at him. I nod once and let mom embrace me. Then I offer dad a distant nod and leave the house as fast as possible.

"Wow. That was tense," Jake mumbles as we enter his car – or his dads' car, more specific.

"Yeah," I'm not going to tell him about my problems with my parents.

"So… is your brother coming tonight?" Right now Ted is at Fionas', picking her up. He doesn't even like her, but she's a senior like him and she's the hottest girl on his year – Ted can get anyone if he wants to. I suspect he's still into Jessica from my class, though.

"Of course. He's a senior, he wouldn't miss it," I answer, wishing we could just stop talking. My head aches and my stomach feels nicely empty. I have barely eaten for a week. Anyway I still feel fluffy and… well, huge. Jake drives way too fast and a couple of months ago I would have enjoyed it, turned up the music, maybe even brought a bit of liquid to spice up the evening. Tonight I stare out the window, looking forward to this thing ending. Jake parks the car at the parking lot and smiles at me, a bit awkward.

"So… I brought some… eh, _fun_," he reveals a bottle of vodka. And suddenly that's all I want: something that might bring back the old Phoebe for a night. She might be ugly, wrong, slutty and too confident, but she always had fun. I grab the bottle and take a huge sip.

"Whoa, easy now. You should be able to dance, right?"

"Screw dancing," I bite and take another sip. He looks surprised at me, and then laughs.

"I did wonder where she'd gone. Welcome back, Grey," he nods. I roll my eyes.

"Don't get used to it. She's here for a limited run," I hear myself saying. What? No! I can't go back to be her! But then again… isn't that what I want the most tonight? _And so what? See, you've already turned selfish! _The little girl hisses. I sigh. She's right.

"That's too bad, because when I asked you to be my date tonight, this is the Phoebe I wanted to spend time with," he smiles that flirty smile that makes all the girls sigh.

"Well, then it's your lucky night, because ugly Phoebe is back for tonight, and tonight only," I mumble, mostly to my self. He obviously doesn't know what to say about the ugly comment – Jake might be hot, but he's dumb as a door.

"Shall we go inside?" he asks and I nod, following him to the glowing building. With our school being an expensive private school, we have a ballroom – no, the gymnasium is simply not good enough for Seattles' wealthiest and most spoiled brats. I sigh and follow Jake to the ballroom. The music is loud and people are already dancing. Suddenly I remember that I've always hated proms. Mostly because of the lack of good music and terrible dancers, but also because it's so empty. And tonight it seems emptier than ever.

"I'll just go get us some punch!" Jake yells over the music and leaves. I find Casey and hug her like I did in the old days before my… touching issues.

"You look _gorgeous_! " she yells and I smile. Casey is truly a beauty queen. Today she wears a stylish nude-colored long dress with no sleeves. The color is perfect against her milky skin. Jesse, her date, is a lucky guy and he seems to know it. Good. She looks stunning.

"So do you!" I yell. She just laughs and puts her arm under mine, immediately sensing that I'm… well, less depressing tonight. More like the girl she knows. This girl might be a fakey, but I can live with that as long as spending one last night with her best friend, makes Casey happy. I take a look at Jesse who obviously boasts about his date.

"So…?" I mumble expecting in her ear. She flushes.

"I really like him," she mumbles. I lift an eyebrow.

"Like, really _really_?"

"Yeah. Just like that."

"That's amazing!" I say and mean it – maybe it won't hurt as much to loose your best friend if you got a boy to hold you. Casey laughs and starts to chat with the other girls. I turn to Jesse and mumble in his ear: "Break her heart, I'll break your face." He laughs and nods.

"Of course. I won't," he promises.

"Good," I laugh as Jake returns with our punch.

"Here you go, baby," he says and hands me the cup. After tasting it, it's obvious that he has fixed it.

"How did you get the vodka in?" I laugh in his ear.

"Magic," he answers mysterious and grabs my hand, "do you want to dance?" I shake my head. I don't enjoy dancing anymore. Not even contemporary dance feels right.

"Just go dance. I'll wait here," I promise. I don't want to ruin his evening. I don't know Jake Berry very well and I certainly don't trust him, but he's fun – and he makes me have fun. That's quite an achievement.

"I don't want to dance without you. Come on, just one dance?" I sigh.

"Okay. One!" he leads me to the dance floor with a huge smile. _Stop, you idiot! _The little girl screams. Oh, shut up, kiddo, I think to myself. She's very bitchy for someone who looks like she's five years old. Jake starts moving to the music, a loud techno song. I slowly give in to the rhythm and I feel the music flow through my body like in old days. It makes me enjoy myself more, but it also scares the hell out of me: I can't go back to be fat Phoebe. I won't. I break out of Jakes arms and step back.

"What did I do?" he asks confused, obviously enjoying the dance as much as I did before those self destructive thought crept into my head.

"Nothing. Sorry. I just… can't," I gasp and leave the dance floor as fast as possible. On my high heels I hurry out of the ballroom and to the hallway where I lean against the cold metal closets. Shit. Shit. Will I ever become happy? Will I ever become strong enough to gain happiness? Unfortunately I know that I'm not that strong. I need someone. Anyone. And as he heard my prayer, Jake Berry enters the hallway, looking for me.

"Are you okay, Phoebe?" he asks as he reaches me. I close my eyes.

"Yes," I mumble, then sigh, "no." He leans closer.

"What's going on?" he asks and I don't know why I answer.

"I always pictured, I would feel beautiful at prom." Jesus Christ, self-pitying bullshit. I make myself sick. Jake nods like he understands and leans even closer.

"I think you're very beautiful," he whispers with a hoarse voice. It worries me. A lot. The last time someone talked to me in that tone was… Newton. Shit. Are guys just animal per definition?

"And _very _sexy," he adds and leans so close he can press his lips against mine. He taste like alcohol… vodka. I close my eyes. The old Phoebe would kick his ass for trying to get in her pants without her permission. But I am not her. I'm not that strong. At all.

"I'll make you feel beautiful," he promises, not knowing that it is impossible. Dear Jake, just as I started to like you, you screw up. My life is a line of disappointments. He starts to touch me and presses himself as close to me as possible. I close my hands in fists, stay all still. I don't struggle, but I'm not willing either. I turn myself into a statue, because I'm not strong enough to fight this. But then again…

"No… Jake, please don't," I whisper, terrified.

"Shh…"

"No… Jake!" I push unsuccessful my fists against his upper body. He doesn't move an inch.

"Hey! What's going on?" someone yells down the hall and I struggle out of Jakes grip, surprised to realize I'm crying. Ted stares at us with burning eyes, I've never seen him this angry, this _furious_. He practically runs to us and hits Jake so hard I swear I hear something breaking. I hope it's Jakes face and not my brothers hand. People start to enter the hallway as Ted kicks Jake in the stomach and he falls to the ground.

"Oh my God!" some girl exclaim.

"What happened?" someone else asks. Two guys, probably some of Teds' friends come and lift Jake in the arms. I stare apathetic while the drag him down the hallway, probably to kick him out.

"Phoebe," I hear someone say far away, "Phoebe, look at me!" I snap out of my thought and turn to face Ted. He looks completely terrified.

"Are you okay?" he needs to know. Everything in me screams that I should nod, say it was nothing, maybe even claim to _want _to do those things with Jake. Instead I shake my head and then I'm in his arms. I can hear his heartbeat and for once I enjoy having some protective arms around me. For once I let someone take care of me. This night is a disaster.

.

"Are you completely sure, you want to go?" Ted asks doubting.

"Yes, Ted. For Christ sake, I don't want to let an idiot like Jake ruin the rest of my night. I _really _wanna go to that party," I convince him. He sighs, and I get him. But I really want to go to that party. McKenzie – of course – is throwing an after party, hopefully with loads of alcohol, and I really need to forget all the bullshit this night offered me. I need to become fun Phoebe, I need to grab the chance to enjoy myself for once.

"Okay. Fine. But if you want to go home, you have to promise to tell me right away. Okay?" he says strictly. I roll my eyes and for some reason that seem to calm him. Maybe because rolling eyes practically was the old Phoebes characteristics.

"I promise."

"Good. Do you think we can get a ride with Jesse and Casey?"

_I wish I hadn't gone. I wish I had just gone home instead. But the thing is, you never know when the truth decides to creep out and knock you out._

.

**Sorry for the long break. People want to know when the "big reveal" is - actually it's not that big, at least not if you know a bit about the subject. Anyway, it's in the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed this.**

**Please review, it will be very much appreciated.**

**- Em .x**


	15. Black hole

The party is just like I hoped it would be: loud, pointless and filled with smoke and alcohol. Just what I think I need. I grab the first and best drink someone hands me and practically throw the burning liquid down my throat.

"Whoa. Take it easy there," Teddy advises and Old Phoebe sneaks out to the surface.

"Bite me, bro. Go find Jessica, get her drunk and live out your expectations. I'll throw my own party at the bottom of the bottle," I – or more correctly _she _– snap. _You're pathetic,_ the little girl sighs. And you're a pain in the ass. Go bother someone else, I answer apathetic. Teds' eyes are burning, but apparently he decides not to waste energy on me, and leaves – probably to find Jessica. Smart move. Another drink. A meaningless dance with some random guy – seriously, I don't even know his name. A drink. And one more. The room starts spinning. I love it. I feel completely out of control and after fighting so hard to gain control of myself the past couple of months, just giving up is relieving. Some guy hands me a shot and I throw it down. Then he pulls me to the dance floor – which means the living room – and we move close. Usually Kyle would be the only one I would let get this close. My body screams every time I feel physical contact, but I ignore it. I'm tired of letting it controlling my life. I don't know when these issues with touching began. It was before the whole Newton thing – but it definitely became a lot worse after the meaningless sex I had with that guy. I don't know why I did it. Scratch that, it's a lie. I know why. I thought being with someone who was attracted to me, would make me _feel _attractive. Beautiful. Honestly it just made me feel like shit. Worthless shit. Ugly shit. Oh god.

"Hi baby," someone whispers in my ear. I turn to face… Brad Jackson. Holy shit, that's almost ironic. The day he gave me _so much trouble _by pissing off our science teacher seems like a lifetime ago.

"Hi Brad," I nod. Casey and Jesse are making out in the couch and I can't help smiling.

"So he's the winner?" Brad comments, looking at the couple in the couch.

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, she's your best friend. You must know about her thing for basketball players."

"I do. So?"

"So, we all tried to be the guy that was enough for her. The right guy, you know. We even did bets. And then she goes with the freaking point guard. The tiniest guy on the team. No one saw that one coming," he laughs and sips at a drink. I can't help laughing.

"Well, love can surprise," I smile.

"Has it surprised you?" What a classy way to clarify if I'm single.

"No," I mumble simply. Brad is nice. Not once has he tried to touch me or get closer to me. It's refreshing.

"Hmm… well, nice to catch up, Grey. I was afraid you still blamed me for that thing in the science class," he laughs obviously joking. I laugh and throw down a shot.

"Well, you really got my ass in trouble. But I forgive you." We laugh and he leaves to talk to some girls I don't know. Brad's cool.

As the room starts spinning I decide that it might be time for some fresh air, so I wobble outside and fill my lungs with the cold evening air. This is the moment I realize that the little girl is gone. I can't help but laugh.

"Did I finally get rid of you? How? By drowning you in alcohol?" I laugh mumbling at myself and have to grab a fence to avoid falling on my face. Shit. I didn't realize how drunk I was.

"Hi again, Grey," someone says behind me and my blood turns into ice. I can't think… I can't… no way. This can't be happening. I turn around slowly, trying to look strong and not-so-drunk-you-can-knock-me-over-by-blowing-at-m e-ish.

"Jake," I say, hoping my voice doesn't reveal how dizzy I am. His eyes are bloodshed and his breath stinks of vodka. He's obviously as drunk as I am.

"You little bitch. You rui…" he gets pressed out through his lips, "ruined everything… tonight. You wanted to. You know you did." I don't think I've ever been this scared before. Furious Christian Grey, Newton, that was nothing compared to what I feel right now. I can't say anything. I'm paralyzed. Jake grabs my arm.

"I won't let you fool me, bitch. I won't…" in a blur he drags me away from the house. I close my eyes and let the tears flow freely.

.

I enter the living room, confused and in terrible pain. I must look disgusting. Hair all messed up, bloodshed eyes, makeup all over my face. People stare at me with surprise and in some weird way fear. I'm too drunk to think about it. I start to regret going back to the party. But where should I go else? I don't have anywhere. That's a heartbreaking fact.

"Phoebe?" Casey asks worried from the couch. I take a look around. I don't know these people. Some of them I've been going to school with since I was five, but I don't _know _any of them. And they don't know me. I can't anymore. No more. In this moment my biggest wish is not to be. In the middle of McKenzie's living room I fall to the ground. My head bumps to the floor with a cracking noise. The last thing I hear is someone calling my name. I'm pretty sure it's Brad.

.

_"I can't believe this is happening," I hear my mom saying from far away._

_"Ana, it's going to be o…"_

_"No!" mom interrupts dad, "it's not okay! This is our fault. Our daughter is in the hospital and it is our fault!" No, I want to say. No mom, it's my fault. I did this to us. And I'm sorry._

_._

_"Christian, you have to stop blaming yourself. When she comes to, your self-loathing won't be any help," I'm sure it's my grandma Grace talking. Everything is so blurred. My head aches._

_"You don't understand, mom. Her twisted relationship to food comes from _my _twisted relationship to food! Her entire life, I've forced her to eat up at any cost. This is all my fault," he's crying. He's crying again and again it's my fault. _

_"Christian, eating disorders occurs for many reasons. Not just one thing," grandma sighs. My dads sobs is the most terrible sound I've ever heard. Before I dive under again, a couple of brown eyes appear in my mind. Jake. Jake Berry._

_._

_ "Please Pheebs, wake up," Ted whispers in my ear, "I miss you so much. I'm… I'm so sorry. Jake Berry has been accused of rape. Dad's going mad; he got his lawyer on it and everything. Like it'll fix anything…" he pause for a couple of seconds, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you needed me, Phoebe. I'm so sorry."_

_._

_"Ana… Ana, you need to go home. Sleep for a couple of hours," I hear dad beg._

_"No," mom mumbles._

_"Ana, baby, please," he sighs._

_"I'm not leaving her, Christian!"_

_"Okay. Okay, fine. I'll make the nurse bring in an extra bed for you to sleep on."_

_._

_"I need to see her!" this voice… it's so familiar and yet so… strange. As if it comes from another life._

_"Young man, I tend to think I'm one of the persons who knows my daughter the best and I've never even heard your name. Do you really want me to believe that you mean enough to her to actually visit her on the hospital?" Oh dad._

_"Sir, she didn't want you to know… I'm her dance partner. And one of her best friends. Please just let me see her. Please." Kyle. Kyle's here._

_._

Too much light. Way too much light. Oh god, someone turn it off!

"Phoebe? Baby?" my mom whispers. I open my eyes slowly and stare into the white ceiling. The hospital. Of course. Blurred memories come back to me, but they're unclear.

"Hi mom," I whisper. My voice is so fragile.

"Oh my god, Phoebe!" mom cries and is about to embrace me. I instinctively pull away. She looks hurt for a second, but then hides it. Dad lays a hand on her shoulder, probably to comfort her.

"Dad," I whisper. There are tears in his eyes, but he quickly blinks them away.

"Hi baby-girl," he says and it's obvious that he really holds back so he won't touch me. I in some weird way appreciate it.

"Can I go home?" I ask. They just look at each other.

"Please, I really want to go home," I beg and dad sighs.

"You can't go home right away, baby. You have to get better first," he explains like I was a five-year-old. Usually it would annoy the shit out of me, but I can't even find strength to roll my eyes. _I do_, a way to well-known voice comments next to me. The little girl is back.

"Why? What happened?" I whisper and dads' eyes turn darker. A little glimpse of anger runs over his face.

"Don't act like you don't know," he almost hisses.

"Christian!" mom objects. He closes his eyes for a second.

"Sorry… I'm just really… frustrated. Sorry Phoebe," he says looking right into my eyes and runs his hand through his hair.

"You passed out and hit your head pretty bad," mom explains slowly. It suddenly comes back to me. The party. The alcohol. Jake Berry. Holy fuck.

"Oh God," I whisper, "What is wrong with me?" A doctor I didn't even realize had entered takes a look at the machines connected to me and says, like he was commenting the weather: "The accurate, medical term is depressive bulimia with anorexia."

"No. That can't be," I say and fall down into a big, black hole.

.

**Authors note: Sorry for the long break. I've been really bussy lately. Hope you enjoy! Please review, it really makes me happy reading you comments**.

**- Em .x**


	16. Anxiety

I stare out the window. Dad's on the phone with Doctor Flynn in the hall. This morning I convinced mom to go home, take a shower and get some proper food. She finally gave in and left with the promise of coming back tomorrow. My fingers keep circulating on my stomach. It's not that skinny… is it? Not skinny enough to be coursed by an eating disorder anyway. I'm positive on that. _They're just messing with you, fatty, _the little girl frowns. I stare at the needle in my arm. It's connected to a bag with white fluid. I know it keeps filling me with floating food – making me fat. _You've got to get out of here! _I know, I answer the little girl and close my eyes. But how?

"Pheebs?" dads voice reach me and I look at him, standing at the end of my bed.

"I just talked to Flynn. If everything go as planned you can come home in a week. But only if you see him for a two hour session every second day." I just nod and look away. He's disappointed. Of all the things I've done, this is the worst. I'm a Grey. I have to be perfect – and I failed. The needle in my arm itches. I hate it with my entire heart. It really takes all my strength not to pull it out of me. _Why fight it?_

"I'm so sorry, Phoebe. I know some of this is my fault… I know it's all my fault," he says. I don't answer. I disagree, but I know I have to restart the big challenge of pushing him away.

"Stop being silly, Christian. That doesn't help anyone," someone says from the door. The beautiful Doctor Grace Grey enters the room and looks at me with a warm smile that reminds me of my childhood – I can almost smell the chocolate cakes and the yellow flowers, which grow in my grandparents' garden.

"Hi Grandma," I whisper – I hate that she sees me like this.

"Hi love," she replies and kisses my forehead gently – for some reason it doesn't bother me.

"Mom," dad says with a cold tone, but still filled with love. She smiles at him.

"Can I talk to you on the hallway?" dad follows and to my luck they forget to close the door properly – apparently they don't realize I hear everything they say.

"Christian, I told you it wouldn't help her that you blame yourself," Grandma sighs.

"I had to apologize!"

"Baby, you have nothing to say sorry for. Yes, you have a thing about food, but don't you see that this is so much more than that?"

"Then what is it?! I would love to know, mother!" dad sounds so frustrated. And again it's my fault. It must be a pain in the ass to have such a messed up daughter.

"Everything! Being a teenager nowadays is a though one. There's pressure from all sides – lots of children breaks under those terms."

"But I'm her father! I'm supposed to shelter her! And I… I couldn't protect her from this…"

"You can't protect someone from themselves! Christian, this is something _inside of her_," I know Grandma tries to be patient, but dads self-loathing is hard to fight – I've seen my mom trying to do that my entire life.

"But… I failed! I'm supposed to make sure nothing happens to her. That's my job as a parent!"

"You always tries to control everything," Grandma sighs.

"Yes. I do. That way I can make sure that no one I care about gets hurt. I know it's a bad feature, but it's a need, mom," dad sounds like he's doing business. I don't get why she even bother – I've had that discussion with him a thousand times. He will never lose his grip. The end.

"I know, baby. And Phoebe will need that more than anything after this. She will need something to control her ways – she completely lost herself, and she has to have someone who can make sure she gets on right track… even though she doesn't want to. I just need you to stop blaming yourself. And try to accept her feelings… please," Grandma pleads.

"Accept her feelings? I do!" dad objects.

"Do you? Phoebe grew up with you observing her every move, making sure she wouldn't get hurt. I love you, baby, but you can't blame the girl that she feels like she's getting suffocated. You have to… compromise. Try to give her some control of her own life."

"In this condition? Mom, she's barely capable of making sure she gets something to eat."

"Of course not now. I just told you she needs something to hold on to. But she won't be sick forever, Christian. And when she gets healthy again, you have to promise me to let her make her own decisions… and mistakes." You go Grandma! I mentally cheer at her. Maybe she can knock some sense into his head. Dad sighs and there's a long break.

"It's hard… to see your baby girl getting her heart broken and you can't do anything about it," he says almost so low I can't hear.

"I know. But it's life. And she has to experience that at some point – even though no one deserves to go trough what she did that night. Have you even talked to her about that guy?"

"No… I don't think I can without losing control…"

"I know you can, honey. You can do it for her. Just let her explain and… be supportive. She's had a very traumatic experience."

"All I want to do is go… I don't know, kill him or something. I'm so _angry, _mom. Just the thought of someone doing such a thing to my daughter… I can't even… I mean, it took all my strength to stop Taylor from kicking his ass – and really wanted to let him do it."

"I know. I understand that you're furious. But think about how Phoebe's feeling – she must be so scared. She needs her father," Grandma might be the smartest woman I know.

"Yeah… I know. But I promise you, his ass will go to jail."

"Of course," she mumbles. I think they might hug. Anyway, there's a long break. Then they enter my room. Dad tries to smile at me, looking like nothings wrong.

"How are you feeling, honey?" Grandma asks. I don't know what to answer.

"Full," I finally mumble, looking at the needle in my arm.

"Okay… are you still very tired?" she continues, probably not happy with my answer – it was the same as saying: "terrible. I'm getting fucking fat by the minute."

"A little," I sigh. She nods and gives my knee a squeeze.

"Okay. Get some rest, okay? I'll look in tomorrow. You got an appointment with the hospital psychologist, right?" she asks. I nod uncomfortable. I can't imagine how that will turn out.

"Okay. She's really nice and competent, I promise you. You'll like her. See you tomorrow, love." Grandma leaves, turning in the door to give me her kind smile. Dad obviously doesn't know what to do about himself. Then he sits in the chair next to me.

"So…" he tries to start a conversation – being with him has never been this awkward before.

"I heard it all," I interrupt. He looks confused.

"What?"

"You and Grandma. On the hall. I heard it all," I explain. He hesitates.

"I see," he mumbles.

"I'm scared, dad," I whisper, "I don't understand. I don't… _feel _sick. But everyone keeps telling me that I am. But I'm not… I'm not." I try to make him understand. He nods.

"You know what separates eating disorders from other mental diseases?" he asks. I shake my head – what is he trying to say?

"It's the only mental illness that makes you think it's your friend – and it makes you think it tries to help you." The little girl rolls her eyes. I can't take my eyes from her. Dad looks at me for a little while.

"Has your… condition made you see something unusual? It's completely normal that an eating disorder manifests itself in some way." I stare at her – and know I've reached a crossroad. Telling everyone about the little girl, my secret companion would change everything. I take a deep breath.

"I guess I'm not sick then… I haven't seen anything strange," I say and the little girl nods. She approves my choice of keeping her a secret.

"Right," dad frowns, " the doctors has told us to be patient, but seriously Phoebe, can't you see it? You've turned into a skeleton! I mean… really. You're so terribly skinny and it breaks my heart to see you like this," he struggles with the words – very unusual.

"So you put a needle in my arm and try to make me fat?" I hiss and regret the moment the words have left my mouth. A Christian Grey mood swing runs over his face, and then he shakes his head.

"Fine… are you tired?" dad asks. He looks pretty tired himself. I know he will be up all night while I sleep, working.

"A little… but I can't sleep in this bed. I don't know why," I sigh.

"Do you want me to ask the nurse to give you some sleeping medication?" I shake my head – no way. The kind of sleep those pills gives is like having a pillow over your head. I hate it.

"You have to sleep at some point, baby," he sighs and is about to grab my hand. Then he stops in the middle of the movement and freezes. Oh, for Christ sake! I decide to finish it and let my hand fall into his. It's not that bad. Actually the warmth of his skin is kind of nice – but only kind of.

"I know… but every time I close my eyes I see… _him_." Dads' eyes turn darker. I shouldn't have said that. I really shouldn't.

"I want you to promise me something," he begins and I frown, "I want you to promise me to talk to the psychologist about it tomorrow. Not because I don't want to talk about it with you, I want to if you like. But I think it might be easier to talk to a stranger about it first. But of course, if you want to talk about it now, then…" he lets the rest of the sentence hang in the air.

"I don't want to relive it. Not by talking to you or anyone else. I just want to forget it, that's all," I say.

"You have to deal with it sometime, and the faster the better."

"No," I can't help sounding like a kid.

"Yes, Phoebe."

"No!" I refuse and realize that I cry, "no, no, no, no." In the corner of my mind I wonder if this is how an anxiety attack feels. I can't breathe, I can't think, but somewhere a girl kicks and screams and cries and pulls out the needle in her arm – and I'm pretty sure that girl is me.

"Phoebe!" dad yells and tries to hold me down – that just makes it worse. I can clearly remember how hands tore my clothes and held me against the ground while he hurt me. Nurses and a doctor run into the room and someone injects something in my arm.

"Shh… Phoebe, relax," a women in white clothes I've never met before says in my ear.

"Dad!" I cry and try to fight them – the little part of me that's still rational tells the screaming part to calm the fuck down. Not working, "daddy, help me! Dad!" Then I'm in his arms. He pulls me to his lab and holds me close. I cling to him, sobbing and crying.

"Make them stop… get them away from me… get him away…" I whisper against his neck, already feeling groggy. He rocks me from side to side and I slowly calm down. Air fills my lungs and I stop crying – but I don't let go of him. I just can't. _Nice job, fatty. You think he'll ever let you go now?_

"Get the fuck out of here!" I scream at the little girl – aloud. Shit. Did I just do that? The doctor and the nurses and dad stare at me for a while. I hide my face by dads shoulder.

"Mr. Grey, you have to put her down," a nurse says.

"Can't you see she's losing it? I'm not putting her down now," he says, wearing his cold and commanding voice. The nurse can't do anything but let him have his way.

"How about you both lay down? Then we can finish and you can stay with her," she suggests. Dad nods and lifts me to the bed.

"No," I whisper as he puts me down – he can't leave me.

"Shh," he mumbles and lies next to me, still holding me in his arms. I'm so tired. I'm so very tired. I barely feel them putting the needle back into my arm.

"Don't let him take me, daddy," I whisper. Shit, what am I saying?

"I won't. I'll never let him hurt you ever again. I promise you that. I promise, Phoebe." I nod and creep closer to him. He tightens his grip around me and kisses me on the top of my head.

"Now sleep, princess. Sleep," he says in my ear and I close my eyes, "he won't get to you. I'll protect you." For the first time since the prom night I don't see Jake Berry the moment it gets dark around me. It's also the first time since the whole Newton thing I let someone hold me this close – voluntarily anyway.

"I love you, Phoebe. Okay?"

"Okay…"

.

**Break again... not much to say but sorry. I don't have a whole lot of time for writing at the moment. Please, please, please review. I love to read them!**

**Em .x**


End file.
